


Whatever it Takes

by Anonymous



Category: Fear the Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fanservice, Fix-It, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 05:40:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 43,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16886673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: After the fall of the dam, the Clark family prepares to go to war against the Proctors, aided by the allies (and adversaries) they have made since the world ended. How far is Madison willing to go to keep her family safe?An AU Season 4 that picks up right after the dam explosion, where Troy isn't dead.





	1. Chapter 1

They say that your life flashes before your eyes in the moments before you die. As Madison sank beneath the surface of the river rushing above her, she realized that was only partly true. In her case, she saw not only the life she had lived but the life that could have been. These thoughts felt more like memories than dreams, and as she slowly ran out of oxygen, it was getting harder to tell the difference.

She thought of her children.

Bringing Nick home from the hospital in the days after he was born.

Bringing Nick home from the hospital after his first overdose.

Nick playing catch in the yard of their old house with his own son.

Alicia climbing into bed with her after a bad dream.

Alicia slamming the door in her face after an argument.

Alicia graduating medical school.

Although these false memories mixed into her mind so easily she almost believed them, Madison sadly knew they were not from the world she was leaving behind. Her brain flashed to some distant Christmas in this new, violent world. A hand rising from the grave and pulling her under. Her father? Travis? Jeremiah? Or just one of the countless undead she had fought over the last few months? It didn’t matter. They were all dead. All dead and she was on her way to join them.

Madison no longer fought the current as it carried her along. It had been only minutes, but in her mind, it felt like years. There was no safety in this new world; drowning would probably be the most peaceful way she could hope to go out anyway. Closing her eyes, Madison gave up.

A new vision came. Though not a memory, Madison was shocked at how real it felt. She saw her family… not just her old family, but her new family. Her happy-little-blended-apocalypse-family. She sat drinking whiskey on a bench with Victor, a man who despite his many faults, had become like a brother to her.

Her children laughed in the distance, as they dug into the dirt, planting seeds. She had four children now- Nick’s girlfriend Luciana was there, and the troubled boy who looked to her as a surrogate mother, Troy Otto. At a nearby table, Daniel sat in the shade, cleaning his guns and humming to himself.

There were more people, too. A black man carrying some kind of walking stick, a short-haired girl with a video camera in her hand, a man dressed in all black cowboy gear… Dozens of strangers passed by, smiling at her in deference. They knew she was the one who had brought them together, she was the one who had led them to safety behind the walls of this baseball stadium.

Madison relaxed into her thoughts. She had never been a religious woman, but she felt for sure she was in heaven. Sipping her imaginary whiskey, she glanced around for Travis. If she was dead, and this was heaven, surely he’d be there with her. As she frowned, not seeing him, she felt the earth tremble beneath her. Suddenly the sounds of laughter were replaced with groans and hisses. The walls around her began to crumble, exposing her group to the horde of undead that surrounded them. Madison whirled around in her dream state, watching helplessly as her family was overwhelmed one by one, being swept under the seemingly never-ending waves of corpses that flowed around them.

Above her, she saw vultures circling, waiting for their next meal. Riveted in place, she too was surrounded, falling to her knees as rotting hands ripped at her. As she closed her eyes and braced for the inevitable pain of being eaten alive, a hand reached down, grabbing her wrist and freeing her from her attackers. Suddenly the dead were gone. The stadium she stood in now was demolished and empty. Madison whirled to see who had saved her.

“Travis!” She rushed to embrace him, collapsing in his arms. “It’s all wrong, Travis. I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t keep them safe. It’s all my fault.”

Travis held her tightly, kissing the top of her head. “It  _is_  your fault,” he whispered.

Madison looked up at him, confused. She had not been expecting him to agree with her.

“When you hold on to something for too long or too hard, you corrupt it.” Nick’s words coming out of Travis’s mouth.

“So, I should have just let go? Let go of my children, of my family? They are all I have left.” Madison stood still as his hug loosened, and his hands shifted to hold her by her shoulders. She had seen him use that move on Chris when he wanted the boy to pay attention.

Travis smiled and shook his head slightly. “You don’t need to let them go. You need to let go of all this,” he said, gesturing around them at the piles of rubble. “Let go of the notion that walls are what will keep them safe.”

Madison leaned back, squinting against the sun at the only man she had ever really loved. “I don’t understand.”

“There is no place, no physical location, that will protect the people you love. YOU are what must protect them, what must keep them safe. You need to be the walls, willing to do whatever it takes to keep them alive. But you’ve given up.”

“It’s too late. Everyone is dead. I may as well join them.” Madison pulled out of his embrace and turned away from him, crossing her arms over her chest, overcome by a sudden chill.

“No one’s gone until they’re gone,” Travis spoke ominously.

“What kind of cryptic bullshit is that?” Madison spun on her heel to face him, finding him gone. Her vision grew hazy, and she realized she was awake underneath the water. She was awake - and more importantly - she was alive. The sun shone down through the water above her, and Madison kicked her way towards it. Breaking through the surface, Madison gasped, her lungs filling with fresh air. She paddled her way to the shore, her heart beating wildly.

If she had survived, there was a chance her family had survived. And if there was even the slightest chance one of them was still alive, Madison vowed that she would do whatever it takes to keep them that way when she found them. She held onto Travis’s words, knowing full well they had come from her own subconscious, but accepting them as truth nonetheless. He had been right. Madison had protected her mother all those years ago, doing what had to be done to keep her father’s fists from flying at them ever again. She knew she still had that in her, that killer instinct, and for once in her life, she saw it as a gift. In the old world, she had needed to bury it deep down. In the new world, it would be her greatest asset.

“Whatever it takes,” Madison whispered to herself, as she pulled herself up the embankment. There were people filling buckets beside her, grateful for the water that now flowed freely through the typically dry riverbed. A young girl stood above her.

“Hola,” she said, the red pail she carried slopping water over its edge.

“Hola,” Madison replied, smiling thinly. The girl frowned and ran away, catching up with the group of villagers who had come for the water, now dispersing back their homes and their perceived safety. She knew most of them wouldn’t survive, COULDN’T survive, and scoffed out loud at the thought.

Sitting up, Madison saw a mangled body float by her. Her heart lurched as she recognized the patches on the back of the black denim vest. An idea started to take shape in her mind. If that body was who she needed it to be…

Madison unsheathed her knife, miraculously still attached to her belt, and waded back into the river at the body. It was moving a bit, despite suffering from multiple compound fractures. Grabbing the man by his stringy grey-brown hair, careful not to let his gnashing teeth get too close to her, she pulled him on shore. His limbs were too badly broken for the corpse to walk, but he flailed around, some ungodly hunger driving him to bite at anything that moved.

Using her knife, she prodded the man’s vest to see the patches on the front. On the right side, she saw the word ‘President’, and the patch on the left was soaked in blood with a bullet hole in its center. Closing her eyes, Madison smiled. Her first stroke of luck in a long time. She took off her button-down shirt and carefully tied it in the walker’s mouth, blocking him from biting her. She had to get up close and personal with him for this next part, and she couldn’t risk getting bitten.

Jeremiah had been shot directly in the brain when he died, so cutting his head off for Taqa had been a much easier task than the one at hand. After ten minutes of sawing and hacking, Proctor John’s head finally pulled loose from his body. His jaw continued to chomp down on the cloth binding it. She tied the sleeves of the shirt into a makeshift handle; until she found some kind of bag, she was going to have to be careful how she carried her new trophy.

The sun was going down by this point in time, and she heard a low groan from the other side of the river. With no place to stay overnight and wanting to start her search for her family immediately, Madison knew she had only one option. She put on what was left of the man’s shirt over her own tank top. As an afterthought, Madison shrugged on Proctor John’s vest. After all, the title he held was going to be hers soon.

Her arms were already slick with blood and viscera from cutting the man’s head off, but she knew it wasn’t enough. Sliding her knife into his belly, she smeared the rest of herself with gore. The smell was awful, and as she choked back her gags, she reminded herself- Whatever it takes.

Whatever it takes.

 

\--

 

He felt Daniel’s hand on his shoulder, heard the older man urging him to run, but Nick stood still, staring at the water below him. He could no longer see the raft that had been carrying his mother and his sister, it had been sucked into the surging waters below him as the dam began to crumble. This had not been the plan. They were supposed to live, to get free, and he was willing to die to ensure that. Lost in his despair, Nick clung to the fence, refusing to leave.

“They could live, Nicholas,” Daniel pulled on the young man’s arm. It was difficult to speak, seeing as how that  _pendejo_  Strand had put a bullet through his face, so Daniel resorted to action. Turning the boy towards him, he slapped him hard across the face. With the ground dancing beneath his feet, they were moments from being swallowed up in the collapse, and Daniel had no intention of being crushed to death.

Nick snapped out of it, nodding quickly and taking a deep breath.

“Go,” Daniel ordered, and Nick complied. The two ran side by side, followed by a few of Proctor John’s men who were abandoning their leader. Still recovering from his surgery, John couldn’t run, instead shooting at the men as they ran away. Nick felt a bullet whiz by his ear and heard the crack of response from Crazy Dog’s sniper rifle. He risked a glance behind him and saw Proctor John clutching at his chest, blood pouring out beneath his fingers as he fell to the ground. The men who had been following them also laid dead a few yards behind him; Nick was unsure whose gun had killed them. Not that it mattered anymore.

Against all odds, Nick and Daniel reached the side of the dam just as it gave way to the water pushing against it. They sat for a few minutes, catching their breath, as the flooding waters filled the riverbed. Nick’s eyes scanned below for any sign of his family.

A shadow fell over the pair, and they turned to see Taqa and Crazy Dog standing over them. Helping Daniel up, Nick turned to face the three men. The young man was filled with an inner calm, a peace like he had not felt in a long time. It was the feeling he had been chasing for all those years with a needle in his arm or covered in guts walking among the dead. He was, as he had claimed before, suicide-proof.

“I’m going to look for them. I’m not asking you to come with me, but I want you to remember all that my mother has done for you. She’s saved all of you, and we owe it to her not to give up.” Nick spoke evenly, exuding the serenity he felt within.

Lee nodded at Taqa, who replied, “Our jeep is about a mile back. It will be faster than walking, and we may need it if anyone is injured.” Daniel, his face having finally stopped bleeding, grunted in agreement, not wanting to re-open his wounds. The four men started in the direction of the jeep, reaching it within the half hour.

Nick pulled Daniel’s arm, holding him back so he could talk to him without the others overhearing. “You can’t kill them,” Nick stated. It wasn’t a question. Daniel narrowed his eyes at the boy, pulling his arm away. He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, playing that he didn’t know what Nick meant.

“Strand… and Troy. You can’t kill them. Ofelia’s death wasn’t their fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.” Nick moved himself back into Daniel’s line of sight after the older man turned away. “I’m serious. Look around us, Daniel. This whole world is dead now. You’ve been friends with death for a long time, we need you on our side.”

Daniel shifted his eyes, seeing the gun Nick now held at his hip as he went on. “You’ve fought on the wrong side before and regretted it. We may not all be innocent, but we are on the right side.”

Trying not to move his jaw much, Daniel spoke carefully and quietly, “I will not kill them.”

“Swear on Griselda's soul. On Ofelia’s soul.”

Surprised at the nerve of the boy, Daniel chuckled despite the pain that seared through his face. His wound leaked fresh blood from the scabs that had crusted over. “I swear on the eternal souls of my wife and my daughter, I will not kill them.”

Satisfied with that response, Nick lowered the gun and smiled. Daniel winced as his face involuntarily smiled in return. Lee offered Daniel fresh bandages and disinfectant from the jeep, and Nick assisted him as he dressed his own wounds. The boy had seemed so delicate, so fragile when they were on the boat. He thought he had been like Travis, too weak to make it far in this world. How wrong he had been. Nick crouched beneath him, gently applying iodine to the bloody hole in his face. Absentmindedly, Daniel smoothed his hand over the boy’s messy hair and looked off into the distance. He had always wanted a son.

\--

 

As the water pounded the raft, Alicia felt herself tumbling over the side. Victor’s hand grasped at her shirt, trying to get a better hold on her. She turned around just in time to see her mother sink into the roiling waters, lunging towards her too late.

“Alicia!” Victor’s voice was hard to hear over the noise that surrounded them. “Alicia, we have to jump!”

Alicia looked in the direction the man was pointing. The dam was falling now, and their raft was racing towards the crumbling debris. She knew he was right; their chances of survival were slim, and those odds only got worse the closer they got to the dam.

Victor spied a giant chunk of concrete sticking out of the water ahead, with a piece of rebar jutting out from its side. With all the strength he could muster, he angled the rudder of the motor towards it. Alicia picked up on his plan and grabbed the metal bar with both of her hands, pulling herself out of the boat. Strand was right behind her, jumping off the back of the raft towards the crag. His timing was not perfect, as had always been the case in his life, and he missed his ideal landing by about a foot, his hands scrabbling to hold on to the slippery rock.

Alicia had hauled herself above the water to safety and watched as Strand struggled. His fingernails split as they scraped at the surface of the rock below her. It had been months since the world ended, Alicia mused to herself, but somehow Victor had managed to keep his hands neatly manicured until that point. At that moment, Alicia thought back to the day they arrived in Mexico, watching Chris stand idly by while her mother had almost been eaten. She then thought of what had happened to Chris, where his path had led him after that. Shuddering, Alicia snapped out of her trance and reached down, grabbing Victor’s wrists, giving him enough stability to climb on the rock next to her.

The two of them sat silently on the rock as the waters rushed around them, rising almost high enough to wet their shoes, had they not already been soaked. Minutes stretched on, feeling like hours, and they sat silently side by side on their tiny island until the waters calmed. They waded the twenty feet or so to the shore. Taking off their shoes and socks to try to let them dry in the sun, the pair sat and pondered their next steps.

“We need to find your mother,” Victor broke the silence.

“She’s probably dead,” Alicia murmured coldly. She had always been pragmatic, rarely letting her emotions get the best of her, but even she was feeling a bit despondent at the fact that her family was more than likely all dead.

Victor shook his head slowly, looking off in the direction the river was rushing. “I don’t think your mother is the Ophelia type. Death by drowning wouldn’t suit her. Perhaps in a fire or-“

“Shh!” Alicia clasped onto Victor’s shoulder. “I heard something.”

As they strained to listen, sure enough, Victor heard the rumbling of a car engine. Silently, the two grabbed their shoes and slowly climbed the embankment, staying low to the ground. They did not want to be seen until they knew who it was. It could be the Proctors, Alicia thought, or worse. The engine stopped, and she heard the occupants of the car talking as they got out. A smile broke across her face when she heard the sound of her brother’s voice.

Jumping up, Alicia ran down the dirt road towards Nick, who broke into a sprint to meet her halfway when he saw her. Throwing her arms around her brother, Alicia smiled widely, showing emotion that she usually kept bottled up.

“Shit.” Victor had paused behind Alicia once he got close enough to see Daniel sitting in the passenger side of the jeep.

Nick looked at him over Alicia’s shoulder. “He’s not going to hurt you. We're going to work together from now on because we are all we’ve got. We can’t fight each other, not when there are so many others out there who want to kill us- both the dead and the living.”

Victor eyed the boy skeptically. Nick seemed like he had aged twenty years in the few months he had known the boy; the way he spoke just now was alarmingly out of character. Gone was the addict, the junkie, who he had exploited for his own needs all those weeks ago. Standing in his place was Madison Clark’s son. Victor smiled. Even if his drinking buddy didn’t make it out of this mess alive, it seemed like her son was willing to take her place.

Across the distance, Daniel nodded at Strand, gesturing that he’d be keeping his eyes on him. The two would probably never swap knitting patterns, Strand mused, but it seemed that the older man had noticed the same strength in Nick that he had just seen and was willing to see where it led them all.

A whistle came from up the road, where Crazy Dog had been keeping watch. He hiked a thumb over his shoulder at a cloud of dust in the distance; a small horde was not far off, having been drawn to the sound of the explosion. The six awkwardly positioned themselves in the jeep, Victor doing his best to stay as far from Daniel as possible. Daniel found it amusing and thought to himself that it might be more fun to keep Strand alive anyway. He was skilled in causing all sorts of pain, and Daniel knew that psychological torture was always worse than anything he could do to a man’s body. Plus, he smiled to himself, accidents happen…

 

\--

 

Troy Otto had never been one to run away from danger, but the thought of being buried under thousands of tons of concrete was just not appealing to him. Having set the C4 himself, he knew that once that detonator was pushed, anyone left behind on the dam would be shit out of luck.

Luck had never really been on Troy’s side, not that he ever mourned what could have been. Of course, he had been upset at the loss of his mother, and then more recently, his father, but in the Clarks, he had seen himself finally able to be part of a family without having to hide who he truly was. The lump in his throat from when Madison had sent him away for the second time was still there, and looking back at the dam as he walked away, he found himself silently missing the only people who had ever accepted him.

He had tried to stand his ground, telling Madison and Nick that he wasn’t going anywhere. He wasn’t afraid of the old man. He’d faced worse monsters in his life. Hell, he had worse monsters living inside him.

Madison had held her hands on either side of Troy’s face, forcing him to look at her. Troy was not accustomed to being touched, let alone touched so forcefully, and he felt some strange little Oedipal butterflies fluttering in his stomach. She was pulling from her guidance counselor bag of tricks to get him to really hear her. “You don’t understand- Daniel is a psychopath. He tortures people. He has no moral compass.”

Troy smirked, “He and I should get along just fine then.”

Behind him, Nick snorted. Madison raised an eyebrow at her son, quickly shutting him up. “Troy, get out of here. If everything goes according to plan, we’ll come find you. With you here, Daniel will be unstable, and I need him to be on our side.”

“I’ll come find you,” Nick assured him, putting his hand on his shoulder.

Nick’s promise rang true to Troy. They had gone from enemies to friends to almost brothers in such a short time, but both were so utterly fucked-up that neither seemed to question it. Jake may have been his brother by blood; Nick was his brother by choice.

So off he went, sneaking out the dam and skulking away, leaving his adopted family behind to fight the bad guy. Sure, he was annoyed that he wasn’t going to be there for all the murder that was about to go down, but mostly he worried for his newfound family. Which was why it was impossible for him to keep walking away when he heard the crack of the explosives rip through the air.

Chills ran down his spine. There hadn’t been enough time for them all to get away. This wasn’t the plan. From his vantage point, he could see clouds of dust coming up from the concrete as it crumbled and could almost hear the water rushing out from the basin behind it. He was torn; obviously, something had gone very, very badly, which meant everyone was probably dead. On the other hand, if they weren’t dead and were in trouble, they needed his help.

Troy stood still for a few minutes. He wasn’t used to thinking things through; usually, he just acted on impulse and let the chips fall where they may. The way he had come was clear for the most part. The lurkers he had encountered were so sun-dried and brittle they seemed to flake away to dust when he stabbed his knife into their skulls. He just couldn’t go on not knowing if Madison and Nick were dead or not.

“Plus,” he spoke aloud, a sly smile curling around his lips, “If they _are_ dead, I should probably make sure none of the Proctors made it out alive, either.”

Feeling lighter, Troy turned and headed back in the direction he had come from. Either his family was alive, and he’d be able to rejoin them, or they were dead, and he would get to take care of the people responsible. He found both likelihoods equally alluring.


	2. Chapter 2

Night had fallen by the time Madison could see the dam – or what was left of it - in the distance. It was slow going; partly due to the aches in her muscles from being tossed about under the water, but mostly so she could stay incognito with her new traveling companions. One of them gave a hiss as if reading her thoughts.

She had no idea how far she had been carried downstream. The group had been walking for about an hour when her new buddies spotted a snack. A car had crashed and slid down the embankment. The driver had apparently not been wearing his seatbelt and smashed through the windshield. Half of his body lay on the hood of the car, the other half pinned inside by the steering column. Madison had assumed he was dead until she heard a small moan escape his lips.

There had only been five walkers with her at that point in time, and she wanted to use them to get all the way back to where she hoped to find her family. Having heard the sound, the group started up with their gasping and groaning again, veering off the path by the river towards the meal waiting for them. Madison still held her knife in her hand, but she knew that she wouldn’t be able to take out all five of her group before they got to him. Plus, she still needed them.

Madison was not surprised by how quickly she made the decision. Her new mantra played itself over and over in her head. _Whatever it takes_. _Whatever it takes_. As the man’s moans turned to screams and then to a wet gurgling sound, she pawed at his arm, acting the part so that her compadres didn’t notice her not joining them for their supper. She found herself staring into the man’s eyes, his mouth opening and closing in some silent cry for help. He could see what she was, or more importantly, what she wasn’t, and Madison found herself almost laughing at the confusion that spread across his brow as he finally, mercifully, drew his last breath.

Soon after the man had stopped breathing, her group of undead soldiers started back down the path they had been walking. They made it about five feet when Madison heard the unmistakable crack of gunfire; first one shot rang out, then another. As the two corpses in front of her dropped to the ground, Madison lunged for cover in the tall, dry grass beside the river, landing squarely on the head that had been slung across her shoulder. She had tightened the binding around his mouth to keep his jaw shut, but the sudden movement had apparently woken him back up.

Blending in with the dead did have its risks, and she had no intention of being taken down like she was one of them. The three rotters who had been behind her were now aware of her presence and stumbled down after her. A few more shots, these sounding much closer, took out two more of them. Unfortunately, the last of the five had already made it to where Madison hid in the grass. The wiry husk of a body fell on her, teeth coming entirely too close to her face for comfort. She quickly stabbed her knife into the side of his head, stopping his movement immediately.

“I’m not dead. I’m not one of them,” Madison called out to the shooter as she rolled the corpse off her. “I’m unarmed.”

“I don’t know if that’s true, Madison. I’ve seen what you can do with a spoon, so that knife in your hand is probably pretty deadly,” a familiar voice called back to her. Through the grass, she saw Troy standing above her, and she smiled. He reached down to help her up, mocking disgust at the gore that covered her hands.

“Don’t act like you’ve never had blood on your hands, Troy,” Madison chided, as he wiped a red smear on his camouflage pants. “Metaphorically and literally.”

Troy smiled lightly and suppressed the urge to hug her. “I’ve been following for about a half-mile. I thought it was you, but I didn’t know if you were… if you had..” His voice cracked a little, and he cleared his throat, still uncomfortable showing people real emotions besides blinding rage. He was grateful when she cut him off.

“If I was really one of them. It’s nice to know my acting skills are that convincing.” Madison turned back towards the car, where the driver had now started moving and hissing. She gestured that way to Troy. “So, you saw all of that.”

Troy nodded, she could see his hair flop across his forehead in the moonlight. The look in his eyes told her what she wanted to know. He had seen what she did, and he didn’t care. She thought he might have even seemed a little turned on by it. Sighing, she stepped around the hood and plunged her knife into the back of the dead man’s skull. Troy’s mommy issues would have to wait until later. A raspy groan sounded in the distance, signaling the end of their conversation. The gunfire would draw more, so they had precious little time to waste.

Madison cut into the man on the hood, helping Troy quickly cover himself, trying to ignore the absolute pleasure on his face as she smeared his body with blood. Even her master’s degree in psychology had not prepared her for how fucked up this kid was. He made Nick look like a saint in comparison.

“You’re sick,” she whispered, rolling her eyes.

“At least I’m not carrying a head around,” he replied quietly back to her, eyeing the parcel she carried by her side.

Madison snorted in response. Two walkers had made their way by them, and their cover seemed to be working. Troy and Madison fell in line behind them as they made their way down the path in the direction of the dam, staring at the space between atoms.

 

\--

 

There had been some debate among the group over whether to go searching for Madison or to wait for her to come to them, with each opinion being held firmly by the Clark children. Nick had wanted to go searching for her, but Alicia had won out, and the six of them had set up camp by the side of the ruined dam.

“At least one night,” Alicia had told them, “She always goes looking for Nick. Even before.”

Nick had felt guilty upon hearing his sister’s words. He knew how much he had put them through. She must have realized it, because she sat down on the ground across from him, bending forward so her forehead touched his. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. You know mom, though. If she’s alive, she’s not hiding behind some rock waiting for someone to save her. We risk missing her if we keep walking. Hell, we don’t even know what side of the river she is on.”

Nick nodded his head against his sisters in agreement, and the rest of the group had fallen in line. Victor marveled at the compliance. Here they were, four grown men, taking their lead from a pair of kids. Upon hearing Daniel offer to take first watch, though, Victor quickly chimed in that he would join him.

Surprisingly, Daniel seemed amenable to the idea, responding with much difficulty through his stiff mouth, “Two sets of eyes are better than one,  _mi amigo. Gracia_ s.” Victor was sure the man was up to something; forgive and forget was not his modus operandi. Still, he sat on the rock across from him as the other four laid down to rest.

Being out in the open like this was not good, but if they hid, they risked Madison passing right by them in the night. They didn’t build a fire, in case it attracted any unwanted attention. Victor and Daniel kept their eyes peeled for any movement in the moonlight, focusing on the river below them. Soon the four on the ground had drifted to sleep, Nick’s soft snores being the only thing breaking the silence. Victor caught Daniel looking at the boy fondly.

“He’s changed,” Strand whispered across the way.

“The world has changed,” Daniel responded in a hiss. It was hard for him to whisper without moving his cracking lips, so it came out much harsher than he had intended. “At least he has changed for the better.”

Strand nodded in agreement. He paused thoughtfully before continuing. “Do you really think Madison is alive?”

“If you survived, I am sure she did.” Daniel turned his eyes from the path beside the river below them to meet Strand’s. “If you will excuse me, I am finding it difficult to speak due to the gunshot wound to my face.”

Victor glanced away nervously. “About that… If we are going to be traveling together, I’d like some further reassurance that my life is not in danger, at least not from you. Nick tells me you’ve promised not to kill me?”

Daniel nodded once, his eyes flicking to the boy laying on the ground by his feet. That was all the assurance Victor was going to get from the former assassin, and he knew it. Letting the silence fall back around them, they continued their watch.

The night was still, the only sound from beyond their camp being the gentle rush of the river, now flowing calmly. Soon the water from the dam would run out, and the river would run dry again, but for the moment, it seemed to bring the valley to life in a way it hadn’t been in years. Daniel felt himself being lulled by the gentle babble of the water below him and found his mind wandering to thoughts of his wife. She had died in the place they had met Strand, and he couldn’t deny that his anger for the man had started then. Why should this con man in his designer suit get to live when his love died? He was so deep in thought that he barely felt Strand’s hand when he tapped him on his shoulder.

Startled back to reality, Daniel looked to Strand, who gestured silently to his ears and then to the path below them. A group of about twenty walkers was making their way along it. Being above them, they were not in any imminent danger, but they both knew that they had to keep quiet. Nothing draws a crowd like a crowd, and the dry groans and gasps from below them would bring in more of their kind. Daniel slid to the ground beside Nick, gently clasping his hand over the boy’s mouth and shaking him awake. As Nick’s eyes sleepily focused on him, Daniel walked his fingers in the air in front of him and then pointed down. Nick got the point and helped wake up the others as quietly as possible.

Alicia looked down at the group of the dead below them, wondering if her mother was among them. She strained her eyes against the dark of the night, looking for a glimpse of blonde hair, trying hard to remember what her mother had been wearing earlier that day. The path was narrow, so the walkers were forced to walk in pairs. Alicia stifled a giggle as “The Ants Go Marching” started playing in her head. At that moment, something caught her eye, some glint of metal in the moonlight. Stepping closer to the edge, she watched for it again.

One of the dead below them was carrying something. The dead didn’t carry weapons, she thought, but she was sure it was a knife. Grabbing Nick by his collar, she silently pointed down, waiting for him to see it. When he saw it, he almost fell off the edge in excitement. Alicia had held on to his shirt and pulled him back roughly. By now the rest of the group had joined them at the edge. Taqa held his flashlight by his side, and Alicia signaled urgently for him to hand it over.

Pressing herself flat against the ground so she could get as close to the edge as possible, she pointed the flashlight down at the small herd and flicked it on and off three times. After a pause, she flicked it again in the same pattern. The group below seemed to take no notice; the undead wouldn’t be looking up, they only seemed to stare ahead vacantly unless there was a meal nearby. Alicia could swear the one holding the knife had stopped in place.

 

\--

 

The path below them was coming to an end up against the ruins of the dam, with a less traveled fork winding up the side to the edges above. Madison hoped the incline of the path would be too steep for the group they were wandering with, and they would be forced to either turn around or wade into the river. As they had approached the end, Madison tapped Troy’s wrist, slowly gesturing towards the hill with her knife. Troy nodded his head ever so slightly, seeming to understand the plan. Suddenly he frowned and tilted his head up.

Madison followed his line of sight until she saw it; three quick flashes from the ledge above them. Three quick flashes of light, then a pause, then it repeated. The pattern kept on, and Madison stopped in place, staring it up at it. It was a literal beacon of hope, and she couldn’t help the sharp breath she took. One of the walkers passing her came to a stop and turned around to face her. She stood stock still, not even daring to breathe… until Troy plunged his knife into its skull.  _Damn it_ , she thought.

Their cover blown, Madison pushed Troy towards the hill, urging him past the line of walkers. Although it was undoubtedly more difficult for the corpses to move their brittle bodies up the steep path, none of them showed signs of giving up, even as a few lost their footing and tumbled comically to the river below them. Madison and Troy were faster, luckily, and reached the top while their former pals lagged behind, only halfway up the path.

Madison dropped the gruesome parcel she had been carrying to the ground, as Alicia and Nick flung themselves at their mother, wrapping their arms around her despite the gore that covered her. Nick raised his head over her shoulder, and seeing the young man who stood behind her, grabbed at him and pulled him into the group hug. They celebrated as silently as they could, breaking away from each other after hearing Taqa gently clear his throat.

The group below them was closer to the top now. Crazy Dog aimed his rifle, eyes looking to Taqa for approval. Strand stepped to his side and lowered the muzzle with one finger. Turning to the group, Victor smiled widely.

“When’s the last time any of you went bowling?” Picking up a large chunk of the rubble that was scattered around them, Victor heaved the rock at the group below, hitting one of the walkers in the head. The walker stumbled backward, taking two of his buddies down with him. Troy picked up a softball size rock and flung it down the path. Though his aim wasn’t as good as Victor’s was, the effect was the same. The rest of the group joined in, trying to contain their laughter as the man-made rockslide took out their foes below. Soon all of the hungry animated corpses below them had either been crushed or rolled down into the river.

The moon was bright above them, and the air was getting colder as the heat from the day slowly dissipated. Madison knew they had to find some sort of shelter for the night, somewhere they could start a fire. Keeping their voices to whispers, she asked if anyone had any ideas on where to go.

“There was a cave about a half mile that way, on the other side,” Troy pointed in the direction he and Madison had come from.

“That’s where we will go, then. For the night. We all need to rest up, because we have some unfinished business we are going to need to take care of sooner rather than later,” Madison spoke, as knelt down and started unwrapping her shirt from around the head she had been carrying.

“What unfinished business?” Nick asked, glancing at Troy, who shrugged in response.

The group crowded around her, looking on in shock as she held Proctor John’s head up for them to see. Daniel saw the look in Madison’s eyes and couldn’t help smiling himself, cracking his scabbing face open for the tenth time that day. Victor slowly nodded, realizing where this was leading, anxious to be a part of it. The rest of the group moved in closer to hear Madison as she began to whisper, eyes gleaming with excitement.

“The Proctors took the dam from us. We’re going to take  _El Bazar_  from them.”

 

\--

 

The cave was exactly where Troy thought it was, and they were glad to see it had not been inhabited by anyone, dead or alive. The group sat around the fire Taqa had built; there was enough water in the jeep to spare some for Madison and Troy to wash up, but the smell was still not the most pleasant. Crazy Dog was glad to be able to breathe the fresh night air, leaning against the wall by the front of the cave, his rifle at the ready as the rest of the group spoke inhushed tones deeper inside. He was a soldier, through and through, and he followed Taqa without question. The man had been like an older brother to him and had got him help for his PTSD when he came back from Iraq.

The rest of the group sat and listened as Madison presented her plan. The Proctor’s had taken their chance at a safe home in a position of power when they attacked the dam, and she was going to repay the favor by taking the marketplace. Even though they didn’t have much at the moment, they had done more with less recently, so none of them found the idea completely absurd.

“Victor, you spent the most time there. Besides the Proctors, is there anyone we can expect to fight against us?”

“The people of  _El Bazar_  are loyal to two things: their money, and their safety- and in that order. I don’t think they care who is running the show,” Victor replied.

“I don’t even think all of the Proctors are loyal to John,” Troy interjected, “When I heard them talking about taking over the dam, a few of them didn’t think it was a good idea. They liked being safe behind the walls.”

“The walls aren’t what will keep us safe,” Madison leaned back, closing her eyes.

Alicia cocked her head at her mother. “All you’ve wanted these past few months was for us to be locked inside a set of walls. The boat, the hotel, the ranch, the dam- “

“I was wrong.” Madison met Alicia’s glare dead on. Alicia smirked, knowing how hard it was for her mother to say those three words.

Not wanting to explain how a fever dream had been what changed her mind, Madison changed the subject. “We’re going to have to find more supplies, more weapons…” As she trailed off, she realized the group did not seem as enthusiastic about the idea as she had hoped. “We all need to be on the same page here. There’s only eight of us, and I need every one of you on board to make this work.”

The group was silent, nodding their heads hesitantly, eyes shifting to the ground.

“Look, if there are any objections, I want to hear them now,” Madison’s tone was firm but growing increasingly exasperated. The group stayed silent for a moment. Finally, Daniel broke the silence.

“It is a good idea,” he spoke slowly and carefully, every word a chore. “However, I have a concern about the loyalty of some of the people involved. Some people have been known to act only in their own best interest.” He eyes flicked from Troy to Strand before meeting Madison’s again.

Madison nodded silently for a moment. “You’re right, Daniel. You and Victor have been fucking each other over since the day you met. We’ve all done selfish things, horrible things, things that have caused someone else in this group harm. Taqa and Lee killed Travis. Nick, you killed Troy’s dad. Troy’s killed… well, Troy’s killed a lot of people. We need to move past all that.”

Madison stood in the center of the circle the group sat in. “This is the way we live now. We do what it takes to survive. And it’s easier to stay safe in a group… especially a group of people like us.”

Lee had moved closer to start listening in by that point. “What do you mean, people like us?”

Taqa cut in, weighing his words carefully as he spoke them, “I think Madison is implying that we are…  _bad_  people.”

“Not bad. ‘Good’ and ‘bad’ don’t exist anymore; there is only the living, and the dead. And if you’re not willing to do whatever it takes to stay alive, you’re going to end up one of the dead.”

Madison went on, making sure to address each member of the group in turn. “Every person here right now has innocent blood on their hands. Some of us had that blood on our hands even before the dead started walking around.”

“All I ask is that we are loyal to each other, because we are stronger together than we are apart. We don’t have to be a family. We don’t even have to be friends. You just have to want to live.” Madison finished her pacing and settled back into her spot between Alicia and Nick. The siblings were looking at their mother in shock… and a little bit of excitement.

Daniel glanced at the other men in the group, his eyes landing on Victor last, “I want to live.”

“So do I,” Strand replied. Taqa and Crazy Dog echoed the sentiment, as Troy nodded his head a bit too enthusiastically.

“Good,” Madison smiled, leaning back on the rock behind her. There were only eight of them, it was true. It was going to take one hell of a plan to get the Proctors to surrender, but Madison knew she was up to the task. No one fucked with her family and got away with it.


	3. Chapter 3

The crew took turns keeping watch while they slept in the cave, and they got a few blessed hours of rest before dawn broke.  _El Bazar_  was at least three hours away, and the jeep would be too cramped to fit them all, so the first order of the day was to find another vehicle. Not having any other leads, they decided to head to a nearby town Luciana had mentioned to Nick to see what kind of cars they could get, and hopefully gather more supplies.

Nestled at the base of a small mountain, the group stopped just outside the town limits to make a plan. Daniel insisted on pairing up with Victor, much to his chagrin. Madison joining them put him more at ease. Although after her speech last night, Victor knew the woman was probably more dangerous than the former assassin. Taqa and Lee stayed with the jeep, patrolling the town slowly and keeping watch for enemies of both the living and dead variety, while the youngest three in the group were left to team up.

Alicia had tried to go with her mother at first, but Madison had pulled her aside. “I need you to keep an eye on those two.” She rolled her eyes towards where Nick and Troy stood a few yards away, joking with each other as if it wasn’t the end of the goddamned world.

“I don’t understand why Troy is even still here,” she hissed at her mother, “Like you need another son to worry about non-stop.”

For once, Madison did not ignore the hurt in her daughter’s voice. “Alicia, I know I haven’t been the best mother to you. That you think I’d pick Nick over you. It’s not true. I love you both equally, but the fact is that you never needed me. Once you hit sixth grade, you knew exactly what you wanted out of life, and how to get it.”

Alicia’s glare softened, and her mother put an arm around her shoulders.

“Your brother, on the other hand…” Madison sighed. “Those two think they were made for this world, that this chaos is where they belong. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Alicia, you’re the one who’s made for all of this.”

Seeing the confusion on her daughter’s face, Madison went on, “You never let your emotions dictate your actions. You think logically no matter what the situation. And you’re no stranger to chaos, either. You’ve got a chance to do more than just survive in this world.”

The girl nodded solemnly, taking in her mother’s words. “I guess we're more alike than I care to admit.”

Madison smiled and pulled her daughter in closer, kissing the top of her head in an uncharacteristic display of affection. “Yes, we are.”

Each group grabbed a radio as they headed out. Alicia walked three steps ahead of her brother and his creepy friend, keeping alert for any signs of danger. The two young men had their knives in hand; Nick had a rifle slung over his shoulder, Troy had his pistol holstered at his waist. Alicia flicked her butterfly knife open and closed. She had gotten pretty good at it over the last few months.

They peeked in the windows of the shops as they walked past. The town seemed deserted, as if they had all left before anything had gone wrong. There were no bodies strewn around; there was barely any sign that the small village had ever been inhabited at all. All the shops on the street had locked their doors, signs stating  _Cerrado_  facing out of their front windows. No lights were on.

Alicia started walking towards the store marked  _Ferterria_ , gesturing for the boys to follow her.

“Ferret-area?” Troy questioned.

Nick chuckled, “Hardware store.”

Alicia furrowed her brow at her brother, “Since when do you speak Spanish?”

His smile faded quickly as he shifted his eyes to the ground.  _Damnit_ , Alicia thought. She had not meant to get him thinking about Luciana again. He had gone back to staying in their bunk and then the Otto house after she left the ranch, and Alicia had thought she heard her brother crying softly one night. She often forgot how sensitive he was; her annoyance at his recurrent relapses had left her almost devoid of any empathy for him. She wanted that to change.

As much as Nick had struggled to convince everyone around him that he was an adult and didn’t need their help, it would usually only take a few weeks before he came crawling back into his childhood bedroom, having lukewarm broth hand-fed to him by his mother or his sister. Alicia remembered how sad and weak he always looked; his face gaunt from lack of eating, open sores on his skinny forearms. It had been scary for her at first - she was only twelve the first time she saw him like that. By the time she was in high school, she had basically taken over for her mother. Her hours of volunteer work at the hospital made her uniquely qualified, and Madison was able to not miss too much work. Alicia was ahead in so many of her classes, no one had any issues if she ended up losing out on a few extra days a year.

She reached out and squeezed his shoulder, giving him a little smile. The front door of the shop was locked, as expected, but Nick found a window that was open in the back. He crawled through and walked to the front of the store to let the other two inside. Years of robbing neighbors to pay for his drug habit was finally coming in handy.

“I didn’t see anyone in the back,” Nick told them, keeping his voice low.

“Just grab anything at all we might need. Right now, we have nothing,” Alicia grabbed a cart and walked down the first aisle. The shelves between them were too high to see over, but she could still hear the boy’s light footsteps on the linoleum floor as they walked a few aisles over. Stopping her cart, she started looking at the options for padlocks on the display in front of her, opting for the ones claiming to be indestructible.

A yelp came from the other side of the store, followed by a crash and sounds of a struggle. She resisted the urge to run towards the sound, instead quietly drawing her gun and peeking her head around the corner. She could see her brother standing at the end of the row, back to her, hands up in surrender. Creeping back down the aisle she was in, she heard Nick’s voice.

“Look, man, you don’t have to do this. We’ll put back what we took and leave. Just let him go,” the boy pleaded.

“Fuck this guy, Nicky,” Troy rasped out. Alicia thought he sounded like he was being choked. Surprisingly, the thought of someone choking Troy filled her with rage. She had even thought about doing it herself once or twice. Moving stealthily, she made it to the opposite end of the aisle her brother and Troy were being held hostage in.

“Both of you shut the fuck up,” an unfamiliar voice responded, “There was a girl with you, I heard her voice. Where is she?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, buddy. It’s just us,” Nick said. She could tell he was terrified. Hearing the fear in his voice doubled her rage. The glass window at the front of the store reflected the scene for her. The stranger had his back to her, facing Nick. He was about Troy’s height, though much more muscular; his left arm was locked across Troy’s throat, his right held a gun to his temple. As Alicia moved silently around the corner, she locked eyes with her brother for a fleeting second. She prayed he could keep the guy engaged for just a few more seconds. Admittedly, she had felt more comfortable with the rifle that Jake had taught her to shoot with; she wasn’t as familiar with the pistol she held in her hand. Alicia wanted to get as close as possible before she had to pull the trigger.

She was about five feet behind them before her boots squelched against the vinyl floor, giving away her location. The man whirled around, swinging his gun around towards her; Alicia was ready though. Her weapon was already leveled at his head, and the minute he let go of Troy she squeezed the trigger, hitting him in the temple.

“ _Jesus_ , ‘Leesh!” Nick rushed to her as she lowered the gun. It wasn’t the first time she had been forced to kill someone who was threatening her family, Nick knew that; seeing his baby sister blow someone’s brains out at close range was not something he was prepared to see, though. Troy ran to the back, gun at the ready, to check if there was anyone else. Nick bent forward, resting his hands on his knees.

“I didn’t have a choice, Nick.” She leaned against the shelf next to her brother, arms folded across her chest.

“No, I know... still, it’s-,” Nick pressed a hand over his mouth, suddenly feeling ill as he watched the blood pool at his feet.

“It looks like he was alone,” Troy strode back out, “He was hiding in the closet back there. Just one sleeping bag and some empty cans of food. Hasn't been there long.”

The radio on Nick’s belt crackled to life. “What was that?” Madison’s voice cut through the air.

“We had company. We handled it.” Glancing at his sister, he corrected himself, “Alicia handled it.”

They made plans to meet up with the rest of the group in an hour and spent the rest of their time loading up with supplies. The dead man had stashed some extra weapons in the closet he was squatting in, so they helped themselves to those as well. As they made their way to the rendezvous spot Madison had set, Troy sped up his pace to walk next to Alicia.

“Thank you, for- you know- back there,” he sheepishly rubbed at the back of his neck with his free hand. “I know you’d probably rather have let me die, after everything I’ve done.”

She stopped abruptly and turned towards him, her face expressionless as always. Closing the distance between them, she pressed her index finger into his chest, and Troy suddenly found himself a little terrified.

Alicia just smiled at him sweetly. “If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead.”

Nick caught up and pushed past them.

“Stop flirting,” he grumbled, grabbing Alicia’s arm and dragging her away.

“Jealous?” she teased her brother. Alicia couldn’t help but smirk at the look on Troy’s face as he stuttered objections to both of their insinuations. She had seen how easy it was for her mother to fluster Troy but figured that had to do with his very obvious issues caused by his own mother. Apparently, he found both Clark women equally intimidating. Alicia tucked that information away for future use.

 

\--

 

Qaletaqa Walker had always prided himself on his intelligence and natural leadership skills, so it was no surprise to him that taking orders from Madison hit his ego a bit. He knew she was smart, too, though; although he didn’t believe she would risk life and limb for him, she needed him at the moment. If Madison Clark needed you, you could rest assured you were safe. 

At least, until your usefulness had run out. Look at what the woman had done to that old bastard, Jeremiah Otto. Taqa had fully intended to rain hellfire down on the ranch and take it over. Somehow, Madison had convinced him of a compromise and made good on her promise to deliver the man’s head. Cold-blooded, he thought to himself.

As Taqa drove the jeep slowly through the streets of the deserted town, he thought back to the few days he and his people spent on the ranch. He knew he was partly at fault for the situation they were in; if he had left the Ottos alone, who knows where they’d all be. If he had known the idiot didn’t even have enough water for his own group, he would have stayed where he was for sure. Maybe even headed east.

Lee, aka "Crazy Dog", sat in the passenger seat next to him, his rifle in hand as always. The two had known each other for so long, Taqa knew when something was on his friend’s mind. At the moment, the silence hung heavy in the air between them, and he let it. He knew what Lee was going to say, anyway.

As the jeep turned a corner and headed down another abandoned street, the younger man broke the silence.

“We have absolutely no allegiance to these people,” Lee said. He wasn't accusatory, he was just confused about their current situation.

“Keep your voice down,” Walker responded calmly. Walker was the king of calm. “Right now, staying together in this group is our best option.”

“If we were just sticking together and helping each other survive, I’d agree. But Madison has us heading towards a battle I’m not sure we have any business being in. The dam is gone. Maybe we should all just… move on?” Lee implored. “We’re just a goon squad to her, anyway.”

Walker brought the jeep to a stop in the shade of a warehouse he spotted. He scanned the area to make sure they were alone.

“In the short time I have known Madison Clark, I’ve learned one thing for certain: you do not want to stand against her. The safest place for us to be right now is by her side. If things start to go badly, we can revisit this discussion. Until then, I think it’s best we-“

“Shh!” Lee raised his hand to shush Walker. “Did you hear that?”

The two men sat in the jeep, listening to the dead air. Lee started to shake his head, thinking he had imagined it, when he heard it again. The rasping hiss sounded again, a noise they had become familiar with over the last few months. Climbing out of the jeep, they headed in the direction it had come from.

They had not seen a single sign of life – or death – since they had arrived. The town itself was in the middle of nowhere, and in the miles surrounding it, there had only been a few undead to deal with. Still, even if it was just one of those creeps lurking around, it was best to proceed with caution.

The sound was coming from the warehouse, and Lee pressed his ear against the gate to hear better.

“Sounds like more than one,” he whispered.

“I don’t want to open that gate, but if this is the only place people are, or were, in this town, then this is where the supplies would be,” Taqa reasoned.

Without further discussion, the pair made their way around the side of the building. The only windows in the back were too high up for them to see into, but there was a single door on the side.

“How many did it sound like in there?” Taqa asked.

“Maybe five? Six?” Lee shrugged. He had heard some shuffling noises, and a few of the harsh, throaty sounds the monsters made. They hadn’t seemed riled up.

Swallowing hard, Taqa reached out and turned the handle slowly. He wasn’t sure if he was glad or not to find that it was unlocked. Gripping his pistol tight, he locked eyes with Lee. “Cover me.”

Lee nodded and shouldered his rifle. Creeping forward, Taqa opened the door and stepped into the cool, dim expanse of the warehouse. Both men choked back gags as the smell hit them. They quickly surveyed the scene in front of them, the little sunlight that made it through the dusty windows above their heads was barely enough to see by.

There were only six walkers in the room, and Lee was pleased with his accurate assessment. Aware now of the two new inhabitants of the room, the corpses slowly shambled towards them, their groans and gasps getting louder as they closed in on their meals. Taqa and Crazy Dog had switched out their guns for knives; they only saw six, but that didn’t mean there weren’t more somewhere nearby that would come if they heard shots.

The two men made quick work disposing of their opponents. Four of the men were in costly looking suits, the other two appeared to have been workers in the warehouse, with matching gray shirts with name patches sewn on. Getting close enough to stab their knives into their rotting skulls, Taqa noted that none of the men had bites on them.

Flipping open the suit jacket of one of the men on the ground, Taqa glanced up at his friend. “They weren’t bit, they were shot.”

“Looks like whoever shot them is long gone,” Crazy Dog wiped his knife on one of the worker's shirts and put it back in his sheath. “It smells pretty bad in here, these guys must have been in here for weeks, at least.”

“The smell…” Taqa stood up abruptly. Something wasn’t right. Sniffing the air, he fought the urge to vomit as the stench filled his nostrils. He looked around the big, open area. There were four black SUVs parked near the back gate, and one eighteen-wheeler box truck taking up the whole right side of the building. The truck bore the logos of an American grocery store chain.

Lee had made his way over to one of the SUVs. “Tank is full, keys are in the ignition. Am I dreaming?”

“Huh,” Walker replied, distracted. Something didn’t make sense. He crossed the open space to the box truck. The smell got stronger as he approached. Lee quickly strode past him, reaching the truck before Walker realized what he was about to do.

“Maybe we’ll get really lucky, and this thing will be full of food!” Crazy Dog grabbed the handle on the back of the truck and unhooked the latch.

“NO!” Taqa’s shouted, his voice echoing through the empty room. He sprinted to the truck and slammed his hand down on Lee’s, holding the gate closed.

The shout had been loud enough to wake up the inhabitants of the truck. As the men frantically fought to keep the door from flying up, the bodies on the inside began scratching and snarling on the other side.

They managed to relatch the gate and made their way back out of the building, just to be safe. Back at the jeep, Walker picked up the walkie-talkie and radioed to Madison’s group.

“What’s up, Taqa?” Madison’s voice came through.

“I have good news, and I have bad news.”

“Great, because we’ve found fuck-all nothing. Hit me with the good news first.”

“We’ve got wheels,” Walker responded.

“That is excellent news,” Madison’s voice came across the air. “And the bad?”

“I think we know where everyone went.”

 

\--

 

The group reconvened at the warehouse Taqa and Crazy Dog had found. They had opened the back gate to try to air it out as they stood inside, shaded from the mid-day sun. By that point, it was clear that they were alone in the town.

“Why would someone go through the trouble of trapping a bunch of walkers?” Victor pondered aloud.

Daniel had known what had happened the minute he saw – and heard – the truck. “They were not walkers when they got in the truck.”

The group looked at him, horrified. He went on, ignoring their reactions. “Someone must have made a deal to smuggle them across the border when things started to fall apart. It looks like that deal went bad.”

The older man crossed to one of the SUVs, popping open the hatchback. Madison had followed him and gasped when she saw what was inside.

“Is that- cocaine?” she asked, grabbing one of the plastic wrapped bricks.

Unzipping a large duffel bag next to the pile of drugs, Daniel pulled out an automatic rifle. “And guns.”

His ears having perked up at the mention of drugs, Nick rushed to one of the other SUVs. Everyone else joined in, hauling duffel bag after duffel bag from the cars. They found an assortment of drugs, mostly cocaine and pharmaceuticals that Madison immediately confiscated. Nick glared at her but didn’t protest. There were antibiotics, some non-perishable food things, and what appeared to be at least half a million in US dollars.

“Totally worthless,” Alicia murmured, fanning herself with a stack of cash.

“It looks like this town was run by a cartel.  _El jefe_  must have decided it would be easier to escape with a smaller group and abandoned them,” Daniel pieced together what he could from the scene. Wiping the dust from the hood of the car with one finger, he went on. “If he intended to come back, he would have come back by now.”

“Well it sucks for them,” Troy said, gesturing over his shoulder at the truck, “But it’s a huge win for us.”

“That it is,” Madison agreed. She couldn’t believe the luck they’d been having the last twenty-four hours. Since first spotting Proctor John’s body in the river to finding this cache of weapons, it was as if fate was leading her down a very specific path. She’d had no idea how she was going to get revenge on the Proctors when she was hacking off the man's head just yesterday. It was amazing how life could turn around so quickly in this new world. “We’re going to spend the night here. I want us to all stay together, and we can’t leave the cars unguarded.”

“Here? Madison, I don’t question your judgment on a lot of things, but I will not be sleeping on the floor of a warehouse knowing full well there is a high-end mattress in the vicinity,” Victor’s voice took on the affected, elitist tone it always did when he was adamant about something.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Madison asked.

Strand strode to the open gate, gazing out into the daylight. “If this was a cartel town, then  _el jefe_  probably had a place here. And I am assuming a man with that kind of power would not be living in squalor.”

Crazy Dog chimed in, “There was a big house back on the south end of the town. It’s got an iron gate. That’s gotta be it.”

Taking back control of the situation, Madison cut in. “Okay, new plan. Lee, Daniel, Nick - you come with me. We’re going to check this place out before we drive over there. The rest of you stay here and keep watch. If anyone, and I mean anyone,” she gave a pointed glance at Strand, “tries to steal this stuff, you have my permission to shoot them dead.”

“Honor among thieves, Madison,” Strand mocked offense, not actually hurt by her insinuation. He had stopped caring what people thought of him long ago. As the gay son of a preacher in the deep south, he had grown a thick skin at an early age.

Alicia looked irritated to be left behind, but she nodded at her mother, swallowing her pride. She knew Madison was taking Nick to keep him away from the literal ton of drugs they were sitting on, and she didn’t trust Victor enough to leave him completely unsupervised. Sighing to herself, she went back to separating and making an inventory of the antibiotics that were mixed in with the stash of drugs.

As Madison led her group out to the jeep, she noticed Troy meander over to Alicia and sit down next to her, helping her sort through the bags of pill bottles. Nick had filled them all in on what happened in the hardware store, and Madison was glad to see the two of them at least co-existing. Troy was a loose cannon, and Madison was going to need all the help she could get keeping him and Nick in line.

 

\--

 

Less than fifteen minutes later, Madison stood at the gates of the house Lee had spotted. It was big, that’s for sure. The property was backed up to the base of the mountain, the gate wrapping around a chunk of land the size of a football field. Although it was not quite as sprawling an estate as Thomas Abigail’s farm had been, it would certainly suffice for the eight of them for the night.

Nick made quick work of the lock with a multi-tool he had grabbed from the hardware store earlier, and Madison beamed at him as the gates swung open. Making his mother proud was not something Nick was used to; he was the fuck-up, after all. It felt good, even though he was being praised for his breaking and entering skills.

The driveway went straight to the house, with a big circular driveway in front. Leading the way, Madison kept her head on a swivel. Just because they thought they were alone, didn’t mean they were. Finding that whoever had left last had not locked the door behind them only added to her sense of unease. They had been lucky recently, but luck runs out, she thought to herself. Cautiously, she swung open the door, half expecting to be met with gunfire.

The house was empty. Splitting up into two teams, it took them about an hour to check every room, closet, and cubby for inhabitants. Finding nothing but some rats feasting on the food left out in the kitchen, the quartet regrouped in the entryway. Madison told Daniel and Nick to stay behind as she and Lee went back to fetch the rest of the group.

It was perfect, Madison thought as they drove back to the warehouse. One more stroke of luck, letting her know she was doing the right thing. She knew gates and walls wouldn’t keep her family safe, of course, but they did need a place to lay low while they worked out their plan to take down the Proctors.

Why not do it in style?


	4. Chapter 4

With the SUVs stowed away in the enormous garage, the group took some time to explore the property, splitting up to claim rooms for themselves. In an uncharacteristic move, Victor did not try to worm his way into taking the master suite for himself, leaving it for Madison instead.

“I don’t care where I sleep, honestly. It’s yours if you want it,” she argued with him.

“You earned it,” Victor encouraged his friend. “We’re here because of you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. This is just a temporary layover.” Flopping back on the king bed, Madison suddenly realized how exhausted she was. Her eyes started to close the second her head hit the pillow.

“Get some rest. I’ll let everyone know you’re napping,” he said as he gently shut the door behind him. Wandering to the end of the hall, Strand opened a set of double doors into what was turned out to be the big boss’s study. Dark, rich wood shelves lined the wall behind the desk. Off to the right, by a window, there was a leather couch and a few matching chairs; on the opposite side was what Victor had really been looking for: booze. A small bar was set up in the far corner of the room, stocked with every high-end liquor you could name. Spotting a nearly-full bottle of Macallan, the man’s eyes lit up. Grabbing the ornate bottle off the shelf, he headed back out of the room.

Almost to the door, his eyes spotted a small wooden box sitting on the desk. A humidor, he confirmed, smiling widely as he opened it to find a dozen high-quality cigars. Cuban, no doubt. Tucking the box under his arm, whiskey in his other hand, Victor hummed a little tune as he found his way back through the house. Stopping in the kitchen to get a glass, he found Crazy Dog there, sitting at the counter, eating a can of peaches he had found.

“Where’s Taqa?” he asked.

“Sleeping,” Lee replied, barely glancing up at Strand.

“Ah, so is Madison.”

An awkward silence fell between them. Victor had not spent much time with the man they called “Crazy Dog”; in fact, the two had only met a few days ago, after the ranch fell. Had it been just days since then? It felt like years. Strand knew Madison had his back, but he wanted to make sure Daniel was not filling the rest of the group’s heads with negative propaganda.

Not that any of what Daniel had to say was untrue. Victor knew he was not a virtuous man. His evangelical father had made that abundantly clear to him. As much as he didn’t care if people liked him, he did care if they trusted him or not. As a con man, his entire livelihood had depended on getting people on his side. It was time to turn those old charms back on.

“When’s the last time you had a really good cigar, Lee?”

Putting down the can, Lee nodded at the bottle Strand was carrying. “Probably around the same time I had some really good whiskey.” Shuffling through the drawers in the kitchen, Victor found a small knife and a lighter, as Lee pulled two heavy crystal glasses from the cabinets.

“Alas, I think our days of having drinks on the rocks are over, so I hope neat is okay with you.” The kitchen had a set of French doors that led out to a small patio. A few comfortable chairs were placed in a circle around a fire pit. The two men made themselves comfortable, pouring their drinks and lighting their cigars.

The sun was setting and had already dropped below the peak of the mountain, making it seem later than it was in its shadow. They sipped and smoked in silence, enjoying the peace and quiet they had not had any of in weeks.

Pouring himself a refill, Lee broke the silence. “Did you know Madison before all this?”

“No. No, I didn’t know anyone here,” Victor thought back to his time on the boat with Daniel and the Clarks. No one had trusted him then, either. Even Madison had fought him at first. It was his own fault, he supposed. He couldn’t tell them the truth, about Mexico, because he honestly didn’t know if he was going to be able to get them in. And he couldn’t have just left them behind, drifting away to safety while he watched the coast be engulfed in flames, napalm raining down from above.

“All of my people are gone now, too. Besides Taqa, I mean,” Lee said.

Victor’s mind wandered to the people he had lost; mostly, he thought of Thomas. “The hardest part of surviving is watching the people around you die. That was true before, too, though.”

Draining the last of his whiskey, he reached for a refill. The booze must have already gotten to him a little because his hand slipped. The bottle shattered immediately, splattering hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars’ worth of alcohol across Victor’s pants.

“That is unfortunate,” Victor groaned.

As if in response, a dry hiss sounded from across the yard. In the far corner, a walker was pressed against the side of the gate. The corpse was covered with dirt and dust, having wandered in from the adjacent desert.

Lee stood up, unsheathing his knife. “I got him.”

Victor went back to cleaning up his expensive mess, shoving the shards of broken glass under a chair. If they ended up staying here longer, he’d take care of it; if they were going to be leaving in a day or two, what was the point? Glancing back into the yard, he turned in time to see what Lee could not.

Another walker had somehow slipped inside the fence, standing about ten feet behind Lee. Skin hung loosely off one side of its body; it must have really fought its way through those bars, Victor mused. He reached for his gun, cursing when he realized he had taken it off inside.  _Fuck_ , he thought,  _Safe for fifteen minutes and I let my guard down_.

“Heads up!” Victor called out.

Lee spun around about ten seconds too late. The second walker lurched at him, pressing him against the fence. The man was now sandwiched between the two walkers, frantically flailing to keep their teeth away from his skin. Sometimes these things seem unnaturally strong, Lee found himself thinking as he fought to free himself from the gruesome  _ménage a trois_  he was unwillingly part of.

Grabbing the neck of the bottle from the pile at his feet, Victor launched himself into action. Sprinting over to the fence, he grabbed the second corpse by the back of the shirt, freeing Lee, who spun and drove his knife into the skull of the walker trapped by the iron bars.

Victor was not as lucky with his opponent. He had lost his footing when he pulled the dead one off Lee, and fell backward, bringing its shredded body down on top of him. Shielding himself, he planted his left forearm against the walker’s throat, pushing up so he could drive the broken glass into the walker’s head. It was harder than he anticipated it to be.

It happened in a split second. He was ready to slam his makeshift weapon into the rotter’s eye socket, but something went wrong. Strand wasn’t quite sure what, exactly. Like the whiskey bottle, his hand had slipped, or some other simple mistake. That’s all it took nowadays to get yourself killed - one tiny mistake.

He felt the things teeth clamp down on his wrist. It bit down hard, locking its jaw like a dog with a bone. Victor shouted in pain, struggling to free his hand from the deadly vice it was trapped in. Lee rushed over and stabbed his knife into the back of its skull, its mouth finally going slack and letting go of Strand’s wrist.

Sitting up, he looked at his wound. It wasn’t that bad, really. If it had been a dog bite, he’d be fine with a few stitches. He looked over at Lee; the shock on the other man’s face must have mirrored his own.

“Well, fuck.”

 

\--

 

Waking up from a brief nap, Alicia felt refreshed. Before she fell asleep, she had found a closet full of women’s clothing in one of the bedrooms and changed out of the grimy jeans and flannel she had been wearing for almost a week straight. She tugged a sweatshirt over top of the leggings and tank top she had slept in and tucked her butterfly knife in the front pouch as she headed out into the hallway to see where everyone else was.

Daniel had offered to take the first watch so the others could rest. The doors to the rooms her mother and brother had chosen were still closed, but the double doors at the end of the hallway were open, and she could see the bookcases along the back wall. With no TV like at the Abigail ranch, she figured she may as well see what kind of reading they had for entertainment. Even though her mother didn’t see them staying here for too long, who knew what the future held. She might forget about this insane vendetta against the Proctors.

Then again, she was worried about running into the rest of the Proctors herself. They knew who she was, and by now she assumed they had heard that the dam fell. If they saw her having survived, and not their leader… Alicia didn’t know what they would do, but she didn’t intend to find out.

Making her way into the study, she headed right to the bookcases. Alicia thought there must be nearly a thousand books there. Feeling a little like Belle in 'Beauty & the Beast', she started scanning the spines for anything that might grab her. She was pleased to find a majority of the books were in English. It also didn’t look like any of them had ever been read.

Her finger landed on a thick, leather-bound compilation of poetry, and she thought back to Jake trying to give her that Bukowski book. She knew she had been kind of a bitch, but after Matt, and then Jack, she didn’t feel like opening up to anyone again. It would be easier when they died if she kept people at arm’s length, she figured. Lucky her, it had turned out she was right.

“Uh, hey,” a voice called from behind her. Alicia spun around, whipping her knife out of her pocket instinctively.

Troy sat on the leather couch in the corner by the window, a book open on his lap. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t.” She flicked her knife shut and bent to pick up her book. “It’s just instinct now.”

Alicia walked over to the couch and perched herself on the arm opposite Troy, facing him. She noted that he was still in the outfit he had been wearing earlier. “The closets are full of clothes, you should try to find something clean. You kinda stink.”

“I checked, all I found were suits.”

She squinted at him, trying to picture him all dressed up. In truth, she thought he’d look sexy as hell, but there was no way she was going to tell him that. Instead, she shook her head and said, “You don’t strike me as a ‘suit’ guy.”

“I’ve only worn a suit once in my life. At my mother’s funeral.”

“Couldn’t get a date to prom?” she chided.

Troy’s face flushed red. He didn’t have a lot of experience conversing with people in general, and admitting he was pulled out of school always made him feel inferior. “I was uh… homeschooled.”

“That explains a lot. Do you know the statistics on how many serial killers were homeschooled? I really miss Google at times like this,” Alicia continued to poke at Troy, ignoring how obviously irritated he was getting with her.

“I’m not a serial killer,” his replied quietly, closing his book.

That got a loud laugh out of Alicia. “Troy, you are the very textbook definition of a serial killer.”

Troy stood up angrily, tossing his book on the couch behind him. “Why are you even talking to me if you think I’m so terrible, Alicia? Don’t you ever get tired of being so fucking perfect?”

He stalked past her towards the door. Before he made it into the hallway, he heard Alicia speak softly.

“I’ve killed 36 people.” Her voice was strained.

Troy stopped, keeping his backed turned to her.

“I’ve killed 36 people… and I don’t feel… anything,” Alicia broke down, sobbing.

Having literally zero idea how to comfort a crying woman - his mother had been known to throw a glass at his head when he tried to help her - Troy moved awkwardly back to the couch and patted her shoulder lightly. Alicia looked up at him, tears in her eyes. Seeing his confused face, she laughed, wiping her eyes with her sleeves.

“Four months ago, I was going to be a doctor. I was going to save people. Now… I’m not perfect, Troy. I’m actually… I’m just like you,” Alicia smiled sadly.

“You’re still a better person than me,” Troy offered up. “You were actually helping the people you killed.”

“Most of them…” she mumbled, swinging her legs off the couch and standing up. Changing the subject, she said, “I’m starving. Let’s go raid the kitchen and see what is left.”

They made their way to the kitchen side by side. Troy was secretly elated that Alicia had confided in him. He had never really had friends, and although he loved his brother dearly, the two of them had nothing in common. Finally, he felt like he was part of a family, even if it was more Manson Family than Brady Bunch.

There was an open can of peaches out on the counter, and the pair quickly found the pantry that they had come from. It was not as well stocked as the SUVs had been, but they found some canned pasta and a stash of candy that made Alicia’s eyes light up. Settling in at the counter, she found herself at ease with Troy for the first time. Maybe he wasn’t a complete monster. Or maybe she was turning into one herself. Either way, it looked like he was part of this group for the duration, so she may as well get used to him.

Alicia’s thoughts were interrupted by the doors to the backyard flying open. Lee frantically ran in, hauling Strand with him.

“What happened?” Alicia rushed over to them, immediately scanning both of them for injuries. Her eyes landed on Victor’s hand. She shut her eyes tight, shaking her head. Turning to Troy and Lee, she started barking orders, “Troy, go wake up my mother and grab some booze from the study- the highest proof they have. Lee, find a knife.”

Hearing the ruckus, Taqa entered the room, bumping into Troy as he was running out the kitchen door. He silently assessed the situation; Alicia seemed to be taking charge, so he asked her if there was anything he could do.

Moving closer to him, Alicia spoke quietly. “I need you to get a fire going. We’re going to need to cauterize the wound after we amputate his hand.”

“I  _can_  actually hear you,” Strand moaned from across the room. "I think I’ll pass on the surgery today.” His knees wobbled as he tried to walk away. Taqa and Alicia rushed to grab him before he fell.

Alicia reached to Victor’s waist and started to unbuckle his belt.

“Darling you know you’re not my type,” he chuckled.

“If you don’t quit with the one-liners I will let you turn.” Alicia whipped the belt off out of the loops and grabbed his arm, slipping the makeshift tourniquet between his elbow and his wrist. The bite was lower, but she didn’t know how long it had been, or how much she would need to… cut off… to prevent it from spreading. She suddenly wished she had Troy’s journal handy. Maybe he wasn’t entirely wrong to want to do some research.

Lee had been rummaging through all of the drawers, dumping their contents on the floor as he searched. Jackpot, he thought, as his eyes lighted on the meat cleaver that had clattered to the ground.

“Will this work?” he asked, holding the blade up to show Alicia.

Strand’s eyes grew wide when they saw it, then rolled back into his head as he lost consciousness, his body sagging in Taqa’s arms. Alicia hoped he would stay that way for the next few minutes, for his own sake.

 

\--

 

Sitting out front, Daniel basked in the warm glow of sunset. He had lost so much, so quickly; his entire life had been devoted to keeping his wife and daughter safe, and he had failed. This was the price he paid for his crimes, he knew. Daniel held out hope that if he endured this suffering, and didn’t choose to end his own life, he had a chance of seeing his beloved Griselda and Ofelia in heaven one day.

So, he chose to live, even if it meant working closely with _el serpiente_  Victor Strand. Daniel had been around bad men his whole life- he himself was one of them - but Strand was the sleaziest of them all. He had no pride, no shame. And no loyalty. One day someone was going to cut that man down to size.

The town was silent, so it wasn’t difficult for Daniel to hear when a door slammed closed in the garage. He slipped around the side of the house, to the side door that led into the garage from outside. Finding it unlocked, he held his gun at the ready and stealthily entered the room.

Nick Clark was laying on the hood of one of the SUVs, back resting against the windshield. He had propped Proctor John’s severed  _cabesa_  on the roof, inches from the top of his own head. Several of the bags had been pulled out of the SUVs and lay open at Daniel’s feet. He sat up when he heard Daniel come in. The look on the boy’s face broke Daniel’s heart.

Sliding off the car, Nick sheepishly walked over to Daniel. He pulled the bottle out of his pocket and handed it over to him. “I’m sorry… I just… I can’t help it. I’m a lost cause.”

“When I was your age, do you know what I did?” Daniel asked Nick sternly.

“I think I have a rough idea…” Nick trailed off, staring hard at the floor.

“I did bad things. At first, I did those things out of fear. It was my life or theirs, and I was not ready to die. As time went on, I got more comfortable with my job. It still bothered me, but there were others like me, other men who had sacrificed their own souls to keep themselves and their families alive. It made it easier. By the end, I didn’t care at all.”

Daniel pressed his hand against his bandaged face. The wound was staying closed, finally, but it still ached and itched fiercely under the gauze. He went on, “I didn’t enjoy it. Sometimes I think it would feel better if I had. There would be a better explanation. I stopped caring. I didn’t flinch when the men screamed as I peeled back their skin. I ignored their pleas for mercy and cries for their mothers. One day, I came home, and Griselda had packed our bags. She was pregnant with Ofelia, you see. And she saw me slipping away from her. She gave me an ultimatum- leave with her immediately, or I would never see her or my child again.”

Nick shuffled his feet nervously, daring a glance up at Daniel’s face. He was surprised to see the kindness in the older man’s eyes.

“I don’t understand,” he said.

“My wife could accept what it was I did; we lived in a war zone, violence was our way of life. The minute I stopped apologizing for it, though, she knew I was lost.”

Putting his hand on Nick’s shoulder, Daniel continued, “What I am saying, Nicholas, is that you’re not truly lost until you stop apologizing for fucking up.”

Nick smiled in appreciation. It was nice that people were starting to believe in him. It made him feel even guiltier about the three oxycodone he had slipped into his jacket pocket first. They were for emergency use only, he told himself. More of a security blanket. He’d probably end up never even taking them.

The two chatted more about Daniel’s old life; Nick was genuinely fascinated by his stories. As they talked, they packed the bags back into the SUVs and started to wrap Proctor John’s head up. “Be careful with that, Nicholas. I know you think you cannot die, but everyone is immortal until they aren’t.”

Loud shouting from the kitchen broke into their conversation. Locking eyes, knowing full well what it probably meant, they moved fast to find out what the commotion was about. The scene was grim. Victor Strand lay on the floor, a pile of dishtowels crudely jammed under his head as a pillow. The back doors were open, and Taqa crouched by the fire pit, stoking the flames. Lee and Alicia knelt on the floor next to Strand, who was slowly coming to.

“He’s been bitten,” Alicia said to her brother.

“Where’s mom?” Nick replied. He hated that his first instinct in situations like this was to find Madison.

As if on cue, Madison rushed into the room with Troy, carrying an armload of alcohol, as Alicia had requested. “Oh, no- Victor. What happened?”

Lee filled her in. It had all happened so fast- only a few minutes ago it had been he who was fearing for his life, trapped between two walkers. “He saved my life.”

Daniel looked at Victor, who was awake again. He was shocked that the con man would have risked his life to save someone he barely knew. Then again, Strand did risk, and lose, everything he had when he took the group from Los Angeles onto his boat and then to Abigail’s villa. And how had he repaid that kindness? By burning it to the ground. Daniel suddenly felt a small pang of guilt. The words he spoke to Nick reverberated in his head. Perhaps it was time for him to take his own advice; he’d never apologize to Strand directly, but he could help the only way he knew how.

Picking up the meat cleaver from the counter, he knelt on the floor next to Alicia. She started to protest, seeing the fear in Victor's eyes, and he waved his hand to silence her. “It’s not like in the movies; if you don’t get it right the first time… I’ve done this before.”

Madison grabbed one of the bottles of booze from Troy and unscrewed the lid, handing it to her friend. With his good hand, Victor tipped the bottle to his mouth and chugged. Passing the bottle back, he closed his eyes and laid back down on the floor.

“Ready?” Daniel asked. Strand nodded. Without needing instruction, Madison and Lee moved to hold Strand down. After making sure the tourniquet was tight enough, Daniel pulled Victor’s bitten arm out flat and raised the cleaver.

It was a clean cut, and for that everyone was grateful. The screams of pain from Strand’s mouth stopped suddenly as he lost consciousness again. Madison wadded the dishtowels on the fresh stump, trying to slow the bleeding until they could close it. “He’s losing a lot of blood.”

“Apply more pressure, up there, by his armpit. There, good.” Alicia opened the bottle of Bacardi 151 Troy had found and soaked the stump in it. Looking to Taqa, she nodded; he brought out the pan he had been heating up in the flames. Positioning Strand’s arm just right, Alicia held it still while he pressed the metal against the angry red flesh where Victor Strand’s wrist used to be.

The searing heat woke Victor up again, his eyes clenched shut tightly in pain as his screams turned to moans. He was shaking violently, and Daniel was concerned that he was going into shock. “Hey, hey, listen to me, you  _hijo de puta_. You are not allowed to die right now, do you hear me?”

Strand only shuddered in response and slipped back into unconsciousness.

 

\--

 

For the second time in her life, Madison awoke to Troy’s face inches from hers. Thankfully, this time he wasn’t holding a knife to her throat.

“Victor’s been bitten,” he said plainly.

By the time they had made it to the kitchen, Alicia had taken charge of the amputation. Madison was thankful the bite was on a limb; there was a chance he’d survive this. After all they’d been through together, he was part of her family now. Daniel had managed to get a clean cut, and they had stopped the bleeding.

With Victor still unconscious, they had to carry him up to the master bedroom, where Alicia set up a makeshift triage. The medical supplies from the cartel were incredibly helpful, and although a blood transfusion was what he’d really need, the painkillers and antibiotics were an absolute blessing.

The next twenty-four hours would be touch and go, Madison thought, and she worried about the effect this would have on the morale of the group. She had no intention of calling off her plan for revenge on the Proctors, but she needed Victor to be part of it, that much she was sure of. They would need to lay low for at least a few days more while Victor got his strength back.

Madison hoped the extra time would be useful, bringing the group closer together and giving them more time to work on a plan against the Proctors, but she was wary that the opposite might happen. Every time they had settled down in the past, even for a few days, they had met with disaster. Despite how perfect the town might seem now, Madison knew it wouldn’t – it couldn’t – last. Sooner or later, someone was going to come and try to take what they had. This time she had no intention of trying to play nice.


	5. Chapter 5

Taqa sat on the front porch, sipping the hot, fresh coffee that Madison had just served him. He admired the fact that, even though it was very clear who was in charge here, she never lorded that over them. Before the dam, she had seemed a bit more impulsive- more likely to fly off the handle. The past week, there had been a noticeable change in her temperament. With Victor being unable to do much, still healing from his amputation, Taqa had feared Madison would grow restless waiting for her revenge. So far, she had been fairly laid back. For Madison, that is.

“I just saw Lee, he went to check on Victor. I’m going to let the kids sleep in,” Madison greeted him.

After the incident, they had all started taking shifts on patrol. Alicia, Nick, and Troy had taken the overnight shift, so they had only been out for a few hours. Taqa’s shift was ending, but he didn’t much feel like sleeping.

Despite his fear that Madison would get antsy, it turned out he was the one going stir-crazy. The luxury of the mansion was lost on him, and although he did appreciate the high-quality mattresses and bedding, he was not used to being so… useless. There was nothing for him to do here except patrol, sleep, and catch up on some reading. Taqa had given Madison his word that he supported her in her bid to take over _El Bazar_ , though, and he planned to keep it.

“He still feels guilty. I think now he’s just more grateful to Victor for saving his life,” Taqa said. “It will probably only be another day or two until he’s back on his feet.”

Madison nodded. “It’s time we started talking about what’s next. I want to have a meeting tonight. We’ll need someone to stay on patrol though, do you think you could ask Lee again?”

Nodding, Taqa knew already that Lee would take it. He may have earned the nickname Crazy Dog in the army; since he had gotten back from Iraq, though, Lee tried to stay away from high-stress situations. Not easy now that it was the damned apocalypse, but who had seen that coming?

“Did Daniel already sneak out this morning?”

“Around the same time I took my post, 4 AM or so,” he replied.

The assassin-turned-barber had been sneaking around, spending every waking hour he wasn’t on patrol wandering through the town. Madison had asked him what he was doing once, and he had just chuckled and said cryptically, “ _No es el momento_.” Honestly, she was mostly worried he was losing his grip on reality again. The last thing they needed was him burning the town to the ground in some psychotic break again.

“I’m going to do one more lap around the property, care to join me?” Taqa stood up, his joints cracking as he stretched. He had been sitting too much the last few days. He didn’t like it.

Madison walked by his side as they started around the perimeter. The sun was already over the horizon, and the day was promising to be a hot one. Both of them scanned the area thoroughly as they made small talk.

“So you never had any kids?” Madison asked, filling the silence.

“Never had the time. Rather, I had the time, but I wanted to devote it to helping my people. After law school, I moved right back to the reservation and started doing pro bono work.” Taqa paused and looked off into the distance. Madison couldn’t tell if he had seen something, or if he was just deep in thought. He started walking again before she could figure it out. “Tell me about Travis. What kind of man is tough enough to keep up with Madison Clark?”

She laughed. Before all this started, the last word she would have used to describe Travis was tough. “He was an English teacher. We were more complimentary to each other than similar. He was always even-tempered, always looking for a logical solution.

“I hadn’t wanted a relationship at first; with Nick’s addiction, I didn’t want to involve anyone who didn’t have to be. Travis didn’t care. He was my rock.” Madison thought back to the words she said at Charlene’s memorial. She had used them then to make herself seem weaker, less of a threat to the people of the ranch. It didn’t mean they weren’t true.

They had made it halfway around the property and were in back by the fence where the walker had gotten in. Walker stopped again, this time turning to Madison and looking her in the eyes.

“If I had known that there were innocent people on that helicopter, we would not have shot it down,” he started.

“Walker, plea-”

“No, let me finish. There is a lot of bad blood in this group, and I want to do my part in clearing some of it. Lee shot them down on my order,” Taqa continued. “In the old world, our rivalry with the Otto’s had been going on for generations. After everything collapsed, I thought it was time that we finally took back what was ours.

“Jeremiah Otto killed my father and my uncle in cold blood. And for causing you to feel the way the Otto’s have made me feel, I am truly sorry,” Taqa finished.

Madison nodded at him, thanking him silently, not wanting to trivialize his apology by brushing it off. In the weeks she had spent with Taqa, she had realized that he was not an evil man; he was just trying to do what was best to keep his people alive. Everyone was just making it up as they went along right now. Not many people had been as prepared for the end of civilization as the Ottos.

Speaking of which. “While we are on the topic of bad blood, where are you at with the last of the Otto clan?”

“All of my people are dead because of him. I suppose he would say all of his people are dead because of me. On that accord, we’re even,” Taqa spotted a walker on the other side of the fence and started tapping his knife against the metal to draw it over. It ambled towards him, reaching through the bars to try to get a grip on its dinner. Walker pulled its arms forward, bringing it closer as he plunged his knife into its decaying forehead.

“Future acts of unhinged violence, however, won’t be as easily forgiven.”

 

\--

 

Daniel had been out since the wee hours of the morning surveying the town, as he had done for the past three days. With his rifle slung over his shoulder, he had walked house to house, block to block. It wasn’t a terribly modern town; besides the warehouse and the mansion, the majority of the buildings were traditional adobe and brick. Although the hacienda they were staying in was built in the traditional style, its bulletproof glass and enforced steel walls were welcome upgrades.

By his count, the town had space for about three hundred people to live comfortably. He estimated there were maybe a hundred former residents on the 48’ trailer in the warehouse, so it seemed like over half the town had gotten out before things got too bad. Daniel hoped at least some of them were still alive.

The town had several wells, and in spite of the recent drought, there was water glistening at the bottom of each one he looked into. The houses were full of their previous owners’ possessions that had been left behind, and Daniel grabbed obvious items of value like medicine and weapons. If the group bought into his idea, they were going to need to do a much more thorough job of emptying them out.

He had encountered only one walker; like the other few the group had seen in the days since Victor had gotten bitten, it seemed to have wandered in across the desert. They had all come in from different directions, so he didn’t think there was any reason to worry about a herd incoming at the moment. That would be something he’d have to consider for the future, though, if there was to be a future here.

Daniel knew not everyone was thrilled at the idea of trading this luxury for sleeping in a horse stall in an old bullfighting arena; no one had dared say anything to Madison about it yet. From a power standpoint,  _El Bazar_  was the obvious choice for them to set up shop, but something Alicia had mentioned earlier that week had set his mind in motion.

Over dinner one night, Alicia told the group how Proctor John had planned to control a trade route from the converted arena across the southwest to the refineries in Texas. It was an ambitious goal, and Daniel agreed with John’s philosophy that the best way to control people was to control their resources. In this new, dangerous world, the common currency was anything that could increase your chance of survival.

Daniel saw no reason why their group could not take over where the Proctors had failed. Between this town and the trading post, they would be in a prime position to control over half of the California/Mexico border. Not that he dreamt of being a kingpin; he reasoned that if they didn’t do it themselves, someone else would- If the Proctors had succeeded, the whole southwest would belong to them, and heaven help anyone who tried to stand against them.

His only concern was what he knew Madison’s rebuttal would be- she was not going to want to split up the group, for both logistical and emotional reasons. Yet Daniel also suspected that she did not love the idea of Nick back at that den of iniquity. She was going to want to get things moving ahead soon, but he didn’t think he was quite ready to defend his position without help. He needed to find out what the kids – and he really did have to stop thinking of them as kids – were feeling about the whole situation.

It was mid-morning when he made his way back through the big iron gates in front of the house. They would be up by now, and had spent the last few mornings hanging in the backyard, relaxing in the sun. Daniel heard them laughing as he came around the side of the building. He paused to eavesdrop while he still out of sight.

“I miss Starbucks,” he heard Alicia say.

“Overpriced swill. Good riddance,” Troy responded.

Alicia rolled her eyes. “You  _would_  hate Starbucks.”

“I miss hot showers,” Nick chimed in.

“That one I can get on board with.”

None of them even looked over at Daniel as he rounded the corner and walked across the wide yard towards them. The three were sprawled across the patio furniture, drinking coffee and waking up for the day. Falling into a routine was therapeutic for people in chaotic situations, he knew that first hand. It helps them feel in control.

“The internet, definitely,” Alicia took her turn.

“Internet porn,” Nick cracked up at his own joke. His sister mocked disgust at his lewdness, her own laughter echoing his. Troy blushed and looked down but even he joined in eventually. Daniel had not heard such happy sounds in many months. It made him think of Ofelia when she was younger, giggling on the phone before she had left for college. Long before she found out what he really was.

Alicia finally looked up at Daniel, shielding her eyes from the sun. “Good morning, Daniel. There’s fresh coffee in the kitchen, it’s probably still hot.”

“ _Gracias_ ,” Salazar responded and went to pour himself a cup. He listened in as the trio kept up their antics. Heading back out there with his mug, he smiled.

“I miss donuts,” he said, joining in on their game.

Caught off guard by the usually deadly serious man’s playful interjection, the three younger members of the group doubled over in laughter again. As they regained their composure, Daniel went on.

“It’s going to be a shame to leave all this behind when we go to _El Bazar_.”

Their faces all dropped immediately; it was obviously something they had discussed before. Daniel had hoped for that.

“I wish we didn’t have to do any of that,” Nick said. “We should just stay right where we are.”

Troy shook his head. “It won’t take long for the Proctors to start looking for us, if they haven’t already. If they find Alicia with us, they’ll skin her alive.”

“I don’t like the idea of people risking their lives to keep me safe,” Alicia protested. “I can take care of myself.”

“No one is safe until we are all safe,” Daniel reassured her. “Some of the workers may have escaped. We don’t know who is out there saying what.” In reality, he didn’t think there was much risk of the Proctors hunting them down. Sometimes it was best to let people believe what they wanted, though; especially when what they believed got them on your side.

“As if once we take out the Proctors, we’ll be safe,” she said morosely, “You know, except for the swarms of the undead.”

Nick stood up abruptly and stormed off, Troy following on his heels. Alicia stayed behind, staring into her coffee. Their joyful mood officially soured, Daniel had accomplished his mission. The only way to control Madison Clark was to control her children, and right now, they were exactly where Daniel needed them to be.

 

\--

 

With Lee taking guard duty again, the seven remaining members of the group met in the study after dinner that evening. Daniel sat in the expensive leather chair behind the desk after Madison chose to sit on the desk itself, her legs dangling against the carved mahogany front. Victor was seated comfortably on the couch; he would need his bandages changed after this but hadn’t wanted to take any painkillers until after they had talked. It was best he be in his right mind for the discussion that was about to go down. As everyone else settled in, Madison cleared her throat.

“It’s time we started talking about our plan for the Proctors,” she started.

Nick was leaning against the wall by the door, arms crossed tightly against his chest, his stance clearly giving away his feelings on the matter.

“Why can’t we just fortify this place? Stay here? Maybe the Proctors think we’re all dead.” His voice got louder as he grew bolder. Challenging his mother in public was a risk; Nick knew he was the only one who could get away with it.

“And what happens when someone tries to take this place from us?” she replied calmly. Alicia and Nick could see the rage bubbling up inside her, despite how cool she seemed on the outside.

“We defend it.”

Madison snorted. “Ha. ‘ _We defend it_ ’. Like we defended the boat? The ranch? The dam?” She hopped off of the desk and sauntered towards Nick, who stood up straight as she approached him. “I’m done laying low, hiding from the world, just waiting for someone to attack us. It’s time to go on the offensive.”

“What is the difference if we take the fight to them or wait for them to bring it to us? Either way, we risk losing everything. At least here we can enjoy whatever life we have left in this hellscape,” he tried to reason with her.

“When are you going to realize what it takes to survive? We need to make sure everyone we meet knows not to fuck with us.” The two faced off, each of them refusing to back down as the conversation escalated.

Before the two came to blows, Daniel got up and stood between mother and son. He put a palm on each of their arms, pressing for their attention in an attempt to diffuse the situation. He turned to Madison. “Why can’t we do both. Take down the Proctors  _and_  keep this place.”

“Both. Between the eight of us, we’re going to run the trading post and defend this property,” she scoffed.

“Not this property. This whole town,” Daniel went on. “We can take over  _El Bazar_ , kill the Proctors and then rule it with fear. Fear will only protect you for so long, until someone scarier comes along. If you’re not protecting your people or providing for them, why would they fight for you when a bigger bad tries to take it from you?”

“The people in that shithole are not ‘our’ people,” Madison spat.

“They could be,” Victor interjected from the corner. “Madison, you’ve overtaken every group you’ve come into contact with. Hell, you’ve somehow got this murderous little band of misfits living together in harmony like we’re the cast of  _Friends_.” He gestured around the room with his remaining hand.

Madison didn't doubt her own abilities. She had counted on being able to work with the bigger vendors there, giving them a bigger cut of the overall profits in exchange for backing her plays. Honestly, she hadn’t counted on doing much more for them than lining their pockets- especially not providing for and protecting them. Only her family’s safety mattered to her.

Nick had been listening intently to Daniel’s idea. That’s why the older man had been out wandering the streets early every morning, he had been cataloging everything the town had to offer. “You think we should actually bring people here, to this town. Strangers.”

Turning to him, Daniel nodded. “We offer them shelter in exchange for their labor. We control the resources coming in and out of the town, ration the water accordingly, and rule with our own militia.”

Troy’s head snapped to attention at the mention of a militia, his eyes gleaming. Daniel raised his eyebrow and pointed his finger at the young man, “We will rule fairly. We will not be tyrants.”

Madison gave a snort of derision. Pivoting back to address her, Daniel continued, “We will not be soft, either. The line between fear and respect is very thin.”

“So we take the bazaar from the Proctors, and run a trade route between here and there?” Alicia asked.

Daniel nodded and shrugged his shoulders, “Maybe even branch out farther.”

The girl stared down at her nails as she addressed the room. “I mean, the Proctors plan makes sense. It  _would_  put us in an incredibly powerful position. And isn’t that what you’re talking about, Mom? Being powerful, being in control, that's the only way to stay alive now?” As she finished speaking, she met her mother’s eyes. 

To Alicia’s surprise, Madison looked thoughtful, not angry as she had expected. “Maybe there is a bigger picture to this that I didn’t see. I’ll consider it –  _if_  we can take down the Proctors. In any case, that has to be the first thing we do. Let’s just start there for now.”

Daniel sat back in his chair, feeling victorious. He could see both Alicia and Nick suppressing small smiles, not wanting their mother to see their joy in her compromise. Madison wasn’t oblivious to it, choosing to ignore them in favor of keeping the peace. She started to try to get the conversation back on track when they heard the faint sound of classical music coming from out front.

Their heads snapped towards the window as Lee rushed into the room, breathless.

“You guys aren’t going to believe this.”

 

\--

 

Everyone grabbed their guns and followed Lee back down the stairs and out the front door of the mansion. Barely illuminated in the moonlight, a caravan of vehicles had parked on the street in front of the gates. There was a school bus, a small U-Haul type box truck, a… was that an El Camino? A few of the people had gotten out and set up what appeared to be some kind of dysfunctional family barbecue. The music was coming from a boom box jury-rigged to some speakers on top of the bus.

Madison made her way down the driveway to the gates, where a man in his late twenties stood, a six-pack of cheap beer in one hand. Her team followed closely behind her, guns drawn. Daniel and Victor hung back at the house in case it was some kind of trick. The man gestured to one of his cronies to cut the music.

“Is there a problem?” Madison casually asked the man she assumed was their leader.

He cracked open one of the cans he held in his hand and settled into the frayed lawn chair he had opened behind him. “Nah, we’re good.” A few more members of his crew were making their way towards them, wheeling carts overflowing with items they had no doubt scavenged from the houses in the town.

Fucking vultures, Madison thought, her blood boiling. “All of that is ours. You’re not taking any of it.”

The perfectly coiffed man chuckled as they continued to load the van with their loot. “People always say that. You see, we're not  _taking_  anything from anyone. Anyone who's alive, anyway. Look, there are two ways this can go - either you give us your stuff and live - I mean, you can join us, come with us. Or we wait for you all to die, tryin' to make things work. It’s not safe to stay in one place anymore. I'm Mel, by the way.”

“Huh. That’s quite an intimidating speech, Mel,” Madison drawled. She had not yet reached for her gun, but the rest of the group recognized the tension in her voice and stood at the ready. She swung the gate open and passed under the decorative wrought-iron arch centered at the end of the drive. No one on either side of the fence dared to move as she sauntered over to Mel.

Holding his ground, he stood up from his seat and held out a beer to Madison when she got close. She ignored the offer. “So let me get this straight. We can wait inside until we run out of food and supplies and die, in which case you get nothing from us, but you’ve wasted your own time and resources sitting out here in one spot - which is the thing you said wasn’t safe to do?”

Mel’s brow furrowed, and his mouth agape as he struggled to find a valid argument against what she had just said.

Madison went on, “Or we give you everything we have, and we can join you. If we  _do_  join you, doesn't that mean we get access to all of our shit that we just gave you,  _plus_  we get a portion of yours? I mean, this appears to be some type of commune-type situation you’ve got going on here.”

Mel looked over to the man in the newsboy cap with the pedophile mustache who had sidled up next to him. The other man’s eyes shifted nervously to the ground.

“Either way, at the end of the day, you end up with less than what you started with.” Madison plucked Mel’s open beer out of his hand and drank deeply, maintaining eye contact. Wiping her mouth on her sleeve, she continued, “I have a counter offer for you, Mel.”

She walked around the open area in the center of the small horseshoe of cars and trucks, addressing the handful of heads popping out the windows of the buses. There weren’t that many of them- maybe a dozen, plus the four out front. None of the people in the cars appeared to be armed; none had a weapon drawn at least.

“You are all welcome to stay here, in these houses. You will return everything you took from them, and we will provide you with everything you need. Help yourself to our water. We have some food we can share. Don’t for one minute mistake our hospitality for weakness, though.” Making her way back to Mel, she addressed him and the mustache-man specifically. “We don’t need to be enemies. You gave us the offer to join you, I will extend you the same courtesy. No one has gotten hurt so far, and I think we can keep it that way.”

A woman climbed out of one of the cars, screeching in indignation as she stomped towards them. “Mel! Are you gonna just stand there and take that?”

Mel ignored the woman, but it was too late- she had gotten Madison’s attention. Sizing her up, she figured the woman was about her own age, her darker blonde hair styled in some ridiculous faux-hawk in an attempt to look younger. The look of contempt on her face immediately told her she was going to be a problem. Madison didn’t like problems.

“Why don’t we just kill them all and take everything?” the woman spat.

Mel grimaced. “That’s not what we do.”

“Maybe it’s time to change that!”

Madison had left Mel’s side and moved toe to toe with the troublemaker. She may have been an inch or two shorter than this horrible buzzard of a woman, but she wasn’t threatened. “What’s your name?”

The crone sneered, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“You know what? I actually don’t give a fuck.” Madison struck fast as lightning, her hand whipping the gun from the holster at her hip. Grabbing the front of the woman’s flannel shirt with her left hand, she pulled her forward, jamming the barrel of the pistol underneath her chin.

She didn’t hesitate.

Madison barely flinched as the warm blood sprayed across her face. Releasing her grasp on her shirt, the body crumpled to the ground at her feet. “Don’t threaten my family.”

With her face a mask of gore, Madison walked straight back to where Mel and his furry-lipped minion stood. They and their whole convoy were frozen in shock. Lee, Nick, and Troy moved in and disarmed the remaining men out front.

“Look, there are two ways this can go,” Madison mocked, throwing the young man’s words back in his face, “You two can come inside and try to work with us while your people get a good night’s sleep in actual beds for a change…” Mel’s people perked up out of their shock at the mention of beds. “Or you can all join your belligerent friend on the ground over there.”

Mustache kicked the rocks at his feet like a sullen child. “Not really much of a choice there. We either join you or we die,” he grumbled.

“It’s the same choice you gave us,” Madison smirked, as her family trained their guns on the men.

“So, what’s it gonna be?"


	6. Chapter 6

Apparently, Mel and the rest of his traveling circus wanted to live. They quietly crept out of their vehicles and headed into the town at the behest of their leader. There were more of them than Madison had originally counted, including some younger kids who must have been hiding in the bus. The man who looked like he belonged in a barbershop quartet was named Ennis, and he and Mel both stayed behind and helped move the vehicles behind the gates.

Despite the late hour, there was much to discuss, so Madison led her people and their new frenemies into the great room on the first floor. It was decorated like a hunter’s lodge, taxidermy deer and elk heads on the wall, a giant stone fireplace in the center. Three oversized leather couches were arranged in front of the fireplace, perfect positioning for conversation.  _El Jefe_  had a hell of an interior decorator, she mused

Madison asked the new men about their experience in the apocalypse so far. Where they had come from, what their plans were. Ennis had been working on Mel’s family farm when it was overrun. It happened fast, and they weren’t able to get anyone else out. They almost didn’t get out themselves.

“We were trapped. I just… I don’t ever want to be trapped again,” Mel ended his story quietly. “Not that we don’t appreciate the offer to stay here. You made us choose between staying or death... In my eyes, staying IS death.”

The room was still. Everyone’s minds were thinking back over their own recent tragedies. Madison didn’t disagree with the men’s point of view, much as she disliked their methods. She had not wanted to settle down in one place, either, but the walls she was trying to avoid were more metaphorical than literal. 

Alicia cleared her throat. “So, you don’t want to stay in one place. You do need to resupply, though, which is why you came up with this awful ‘we’ll wait outside until you give us your shit’ plan.”

“It worked before,” Ennis muttered.

“ _Sure_  it did,” she agreed sarcastically, “I think I see how we can both get what we want here.” Alicia explained the details of the trade route they had planned to the men. Both followed along intently, but Ennis seemed confused.

“That’s neat and all, best of luck. What does that have to do with us?” he said.

Mel had picked up on what the girl had been hinting at. He had a hard time keeping his eyes off of her, to be honest, so maybe that was why he had paid such rapt attention to her. “We’d be couriers? Stay on the road, keep commerce moving, protect the deliveries."

"Maybe you’re not as stupid as you look,” Alicia said and winked at him, causing him to blush deeply.

“You’d get your trucks back, of course, plus a share of the bazaar profits if you help us take it,” Madison offered, liking where this idea was going. As proud as she was of her daughter for taking charge, it was time for Madison to step back in. “And as we grow, you’d branch out and find new settlements to join us.”

Ennis rolled his eyes, sneering, "What would stop us from just taking the supplies and disappearing?" 

"The same thing keeping me from putting a bullet in your head right now," Madison purred, "Absolutely nothing."

Mel shifted uncomfortably and jabbed an elbow sharply into his friend's ribs. "He's kidding. We think it's a great idea," he rushed to smooth over the situation.

“Okay, we do still have that one big problem – how are we going to ambush Proctors? Now more than ever, it seems like that has to be our first move… as much as I hate to admit it,” Nick said, glaring at his mother. 

There were a few suggestions from the group, none of which seemed realistic. Troy wanted to go in guns-a-blazing, of course. Lee suggested he conduct a covert solo mission a la Jason Bourne. 

“I mean, not to beat a dead horse here... Couldn’t we just surround them and force them out?” Ennis interjected. The room groaned in unison.

“There's a smugglers tunnel under the arena. It lets out about half a mile out in the desert,” Alicia recalled. In the short time she had spent with him, Proctor John had divulged a great number of secrets to Alicia in an effort to impress her. He had all but fallen in love with her after the way she handled his surgery; the girl was the embodiment of grace under pressure. “That’s the Proctors escape route.”

“Fine, then we push them out that way, and man both exits,” Ennis said, exasperated.

“There’s too many of them; even if everyone went, they’d outnumber us two to one. We’re going to need people to stay behind here, and then to split the group to cover both exits… It would be a massacre,” Nick argued.

Slowly, a plan began to form in Madison’s mind. “No, no- that’s not a bad idea. Nick’s right, though. We can’t split up. We're going to need more bodies.”

“Right let’s just go out and recruit a few hundred more people. I’ll put an ad in the newspaper,” Nick scoffed.

Madison was really starting to get sick of her son’s attitude. Maybe some distance would actually be good for them. Familiarity bred contempt, and in the Clark family, it bred fast.

“I didn’t say  _people_ , Nick,” she jabbed, “I said  _bodies_.”

The plan was a solid one. Even Ennis thought it was great – of course, he was taking credit for a large portion of it since was his suggestion had inspired Madison. The uneasy allies stayed up talking excitedly for the next few hours, making plans until they could barely keep their eyes open. Mel and Ennis were given their own room; Madison didn’t feel the need to post a guard at their door, but the two were far from getting their weapons back. The two hipsters stood to benefit way more by helping her than by trying to screw her over. If they had half a brain in their heads, they would try their best not to ruin the deal for themselves.

 

\--

 

Nick hung back in the lounge after the meeting. He had always struggled with insomnia, and the constant stress of living in this nightmare world had done nothing to improve it. Add to that his new and tenuous sobriety, and the fact that he was spending 24/7 under the same roof as his mother, which rarely went well for more than a few weeks even under the very best of circumstances, and he found himself struggling to find any way to relax.

He still had the same three Oxys he’d pocketed that first night in town. He shoved his hand in his jacket and ran his fingers across them. They really had been just an insurance policy, but this was the first time in days where he had found himself truly alone, and the temptation was almost unbearable. Considering what was on the agenda for tomorrow, this might even be his last night on earth. Slumping back on the perfectly distressed leather couch that no doubt cost more than his first car, Nick considered his options. Pinching the pill between his thumb and forefinger, he held it up in front of his face, squinting at the tiny blue dot that dominated his every waking thought.

“Whatcha got there?” a voice called from behind him.

Scrambling, Nick jammed the pill back into his pocket and craned his neck to see who had joined him. Seeing it was the disgruntled guy with the questionable taste in facial hair, he stood up. “Oh, you know. Just a vitamin. Can’t risk getting sick nowadays.”

“Yeah? Well maybe I need one of those vitamins,” Ennis forced a small, fake cough.

Ennis blocked the doorway as he tried to leave. “I thought we were all on the same team now, Nick. Doesn’t that mean we should be sharing?”

“Listen, man, I’ll get you some. I just, I don’t have much right now. Wait ‘til we get to the trading post, they have anything you can imagine. Stuff you’ve never even heard of.” Nick tried to entice the man, but he was having none of it.

Ennis pushed Nick back into the room, hard. “I’ve got a feeling that mommy wouldn't approve of this recreational activity of yours," he threatened, "So, you’re going to give me everything you have right now and  _then_  get me more. Or I’m just going to have to holler for your bitch of a mother and tell her what her baby boy is up to. Does she still spank you, Nick? Or did you start to like it too much.”

Something inside Nick snapped. He knew he had earned his reputation as an irresponsible junkie loser and put his family through hell, but he was sick and tired of everyone treating him like he was his mother’s bitch. Nick lunged at Ennis, pushing him up against the wall by his throat. Collecting himself, he responded by driving his knee directly into Nick’s stomach. Ennis had never been afraid to fight dirty, and he continued to kick at Nick as he was doubled over on the ground. Nick grabbed his foot and toppled his him down onto the ground with him

The two young men smashed into the expensive lamps and decor as they continued to grapple around the room. Some of the taxidermy was knocked off the wall, including the head of a 16 point buck that landed on the ground nearby. Finally gaining a bit of upper ground, Nick landed a punch square on Ennis's jaw, knocking him backward and causing him to lose his balance. By the time Nick realized where Ennis was going to land, it was too late. 

Awakened by the noise from the scuffle, Troy came rushing in, followed by Mel, just in time to watch as Ennis landed hard on the animal’s pointed antlers. The force of the fall was enough for the sharp prongs to puncture through the front of his ribcage. Nick stood back, eyes wide, horrified at what he had just caused. Ennis was looking right at him, blood gurgling out of his mouth as he struggled to breathe. 

His gun already out, Troy stepped in, putting a bullet between the dying man’s eyes. Mel and Nick jumped at the sound, snapping out of their shock. The gunshot brought everyone else in the house running in, armed for a battle. 

Looking over the situation, Madison turned to her son for answers. “What the fuck happened here.” 

“H-he attacked me. I couldn’t sleep. I was- I was just sitting here, and he came in trying to pick a fight. S-Said he was angry that he wasn’t getting more credit for the p-plan,” Nick’s voice shook as he lied.

Mel looked at his friend’s body, sadly. “He wasn’t happy to be here. I knew that.”

Nick seemed relieved to have Mel support his claim publicly. The group, most still half-asleep, seemed to buy the explanation and ambled back to their respective beds. Madison had spent too many years dealing with Nick’s dishonesty to fall for it herself. Although she didn’t know what exactly he was covering up, she would bet it had something to do with drugs.

Troy and Mel carried the body out back. It took longer and was much messier than they had planned on, with the additional forty pounds the deer’s head added making it incredibly awkward to maneuver. What was no doubt a ten grand rug was now saturated with blood, and no amount of scrubbing was going to get that stain out.

“We can clean this up later,” Madison shepherded her children back to their bedrooms. As she said good night to Nick, she paused. “I need you to be clear headed tomorrow.”

Holding her gaze, Nick tried to keep up the charade, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Madison nodded, resigned to her disappointment, and crossed the hall to her room. Closing the door behind him, Nick broke down. Slumping to the ground, his body shook as he tried to keep his sobs silent. The necessary violence of this world was eating at him, and he hated how easily he fell into it.

He had never considered himself a good man. Good men don’t disappear for weeks on end, leaving their family to worry while they sleep on dirty mattresses, selling everything they can steal to get high. He had never really thought of himself as bad, either. He had killed Calvin in self-defense, and Jeremiah he had shot to save the ranch, but this? Ennis was dead because Nick wouldn’t - couldn’t – risk losing a single pill.

Composing himself, he walked over to the en-suite bathroom, pulling the pastel tablets out of his pocket. Standing over the sink, he plinked them one by one down the drain, pouring some water down after to make sure they dissolved. Busting open the pipes to salvage them would no longer be an option for him. Feeling both a sense of relief and dread, Nick crawled under the layers of soft blankets and prayed for sleep to come. He had thought it was going to be easier to live in this world than the old one; much to his disappointment, it was turning out to be much, much harder.

 

\--

 

The next morning, Mel rallied his whole group, now less one Ennis-ka-bob, and told them the plan. Apparently, the deceased had not been beloved in the group, because no one shed a tear at the news of his death. Alicia passed out hot cups of coffee as they all stood huddled on the lawn of the mansion in the early morning light. She was following in her mother’s footsteps as a gracious hostess as well as a fearsome leader.

The new folks were more than amenable to the idea. As it turned out, some of them were getting tired of living on the road and were overjoyed at the option to settle down in a home again. Madison stepped in and split out responsibilities for everyone, even those who were staying behind. There were a few things that needed to be done before they could attack, and with the plan to hit the bazaar the next day, they had a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it.

After a bit, Madison headed to the master suite, finding Victor was stretched out on the bed, drinking tequila straight from the bottle and flipping through various high-end catalogs that were spread out on the bed. She hadn't assigned him anything to do yet; he was still on the mend from a traumatic injury. 

“There she is,  _la Reina_!” he greeted her as she entered the room. Daniel had jokingly referred to her using the title at the morning's pow-wow, and it had caught on quickly. Even Mel’s group started calling her by the nickname, more out of respect than jest. She certainly didn’t feel like a queen, in her blood stained jeans and leather jacket. A queen’s job is to make decisions in the best interest of her people and to keep them safe. If that was the challenge, Madison was up to it.

Plucking the bottle of Percocet off his bedside table, she scolded him, “You shouldn’t be mixing these with alcohol.”

“I haven’t taken any in the last twenty-four hours. I need to be ready to stand by your side when we take down the Proctors,” Victor smiled brightly at his friend. Seeing her eyebrow raise as she eyed the bottle, he joked, “I’ve negotiated million-dollar deals after two bottles of scotch, this is nothing.”

Snatching the bottle, Madison took a swig herself. She pushed some of the magazines out of the way and sat on the edge of the bed, passing the bottle back.

“That’s what I wanted to talk about,” Madison said, “Now that Mel and his men are here, I think we can afford to have you stay behind here. I mean, since you’re going to end up back here anyway-”

“I’m not staying here,” Victor cut her off, “I’m staying with you. At the bazaar.”

As Madison started to protest, he took her hand in his remaining one and shook his head. He didn’t want to hear it. “I’ve made up my mind, Madison. The minute we got here I let my guard down and look where that got me.” He held up his freshly bandaged stump. “What good is luxury and wealth if you’re not alive to enjoy it? It’s time for me to stop looking for the easy way out and start learning how to make it in this world.”

As pleased as the thought of having Strand by her side made her, Madison didn’t want him pushing himself too far out of his comfort zone and told him as such. “You’re still healing. You can come once we’re all set up there.”

“Madison Clark, the minute you get inside those walls, you’re not going to have to worry about the dead eating you alive- the dealers there will do it first. I’m a negotiator, baby,” Victor grinned slyly, taking a sip from the bottle they were sharing, “You’re going to need me there.”

More than anyone else in the group, Victor had relied on his wits and deal-making abilities over his physical prowess to keep himself alive, so he did have a point. Having him at the table to smooth things over with the current inhabitants of the arena would help a lot. “Then you really ought to sober up. Go take a cold shower.”

“Like there is any other option,” Victor snarked, but he did as Madison asked, putting the cork back in the bottle. “Is there coffee left or did that band of gypsies drink it all?” 

“I can make some more if they did,” Madison said, helping him as he tried to get out of bed without putting any pressure on his bandaged wrist. “What do you say we go check and then head out for some target practice. You’re gonna need to get used to fighting with one hand now.”

“I appreciate it,” he said quietly, struggling to fasten buckle on his holster. Madison moved to help, but he stopped her. “I can do it.” After a bit more maneuvering, he snapped it shut, beaming with pride.

Madison was glad to see him up and about and being independent, although she knew he wouldn’t be able to defend himself still for a while. If he meant what he said, she’d be grateful to have him as her right hand at the market, even if that was all he had left. Plus, it was always a good thing to keep a close eye on Victor Strand. Their predicament at the dam was almost entirely his fault, after all.

Accompanying him to the kitchen, she kept Victor company as he drank some of the leftover coffee, and ate a bowl full of beans, which there now seemed to be hundreds of cans of stacked all over the kitchen. As he finished up, they heard a commotion from the garage. Checking in on the scene, they found Daniel and Alicia working with Mel and a few members of his group to empty the vehicles of their plunder from the night before. A young girl was putting cans back into a box that she must have knocked over.

“Did the guys leave already?” Madison asked, walking over to her daughter, who was directing the men where to put each box after she checked the contents.

“About twenty minutes ago.” Alicia flipped open the lid of one of the boxes by her feet. “More beans. Mel, can you start to put these in the back of the garage? The pantry is already overflowing.”

Watching her daughter order everyone around, Madison was glad at least one child had gotten her type-A personality. “You told them everything Proctor John had told you?”

“I drew a map from what I could remember. Nick and Troy said they remembered seeing some of the landmarks on their way to the dam,” Alicia assured her. “They’ll find it.”

“Good girl,” Madison said, kissing the top of her daughter’s head. “Victor and I are heading out to do some target practice. Radio if you need anything.”

Alicia went back to sifting through boxes of supplies as her mother and Victor headed out the open garage door. Most were things that could be used- food, blankets, clothing, shoes. These weirdos had grabbed everything that wasn’t bolted down. Daniel had joked that their scavenging had saved them days of work, and it really was the truth. Flicking open the next box, Alicia rolled her eyes.

“Oh, come on. Why the hell would you take the light bulbs?”

 

\--

 

The drive out into the desert was a quiet one. Troy could feel Walker’s eyes boring a hole in the back of his neck as he drove down the dust-covered highway. Nick was still in some kind of haze after last night’s craziness, and he didn’t think that either of the other men wanted to make small talk with him. Instead, he stared ahead intently, a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, trying to squelch his excitement at the whole situation.

Having been pulled out of school at an early age, Troy spent most of his adolescence alone. Besides Jake, there were only one or two other boys his age who would occasionally come by to play video games or shoot guns. He wasn’t lying when he told Madison he hadn’t been lonely; truth be told, it wasn’t like he had much to compare it to. The solitude suited him. Being around other people only reminded him how broken he was. 

As the ranch started to fill up, he quickly found himself overwhelmed. His life had been boring and monotonous before the outbreak, sure, but at least it was peaceful. After two weeks of being surrounded by the likes of Gretchen Trimbol and the rest of her Bible-thumping friends, Troy had been ready to feed himself to the next walker he saw. He had jumped at the opportunity to go on a gas run.

When they had found the local army base had been abandoned, though, they had to check it out. That asshole Willy had come up with the idea to “reinstate the border defense”. It was a game at first, just shooting at walkers. One morning a small group of people had tried to get around one of the fences, and Willy had mowed them down without a second thought. From that point on, it was open season.

Alicia had called him a serial killer. It had stung at the time, and he didn’t think that was quite right. It wasn’t necessarily the killing that Troy liked, it was the  _violence_. There was a rage burning deep inside of him at all times, and sometimes it consumed him. When Willy had started shooting at those people- those living, breathing human beings - something inside of Troy snapped. People had hurt him his whole life, and now it was his turn to hurt some people back.

He honestly didn’t care what color the people they brought in were; in Troy’s eyes, everyone was equally disposable. Not caring either way, he went along with the rest of the guys as they created their very own concentration camp, as long as he got to play the part of Dr. Mengele. It had taken getting a spoon jammed in his eye socket to snap him back to reality. 

An old billboard advertising a local wrestling show appeared on the horizon. “We’re close,” Nick said; apparently, he had been paying attention and not just staring morosely off into the distance.

How Alicia had gotten so much information from the Proctors in such a short time had impressed Troy. She had been on track to become a doctor, so he knew she was smart, but he hadn’t realized how cunning she could be. Like mother, like daughter, he supposed. The Clark women were forces to be reckoned with. God forbid the two of them ever end up on opposite sides – the world would burn.

After a few minutes, their destination loomed on the horizon. The service station had not been hard to find; it was the only thing around for miles. Judging by the prices on the gas pumps, it had been at least a dozen years since anyone had filled their tanks there, and the small store had been ransacked. Cautiously, the men parked and got out of the truck, guns at the ready. This close to the bazaar, they didn’t want to risk being seen or heard, and they couldn’t be sure the outpost was even abandoned. Anything could have happened in the week or so since the dam had burst.

The sun-bleached brick garage stood behind the station, just like Alicia had described. As they approached, a light breeze rattled the doors. There was no lock on them, which seemed odd to him. Troy knew personally there were merits in hiding in plain sight, though. The more you blend in, the less suspicious you were.

The trio readied their guns and swung the doors open. Troy moved in quickly, doing a preliminary scan for hostiles, using tactics he had picked up from hundreds of hours of  _Call of Duty_. His mental health issues had obviously precluded him from joining the military in real life; when the recruiter had informed him of that fact when he was seventeen, Troy hadn't responded well. 

It was the only time he had been arrested - in his rage, he threw a chair at the lieutenant's head, smashing the plate glass window behind him. Big Otto had picked him up from the station and paid his fine wordlessly. Back at the ranch, he had beat Troy black and blue, more for interrupting his day than for the actual crime, but either way, that had been the last time Troy had been allowed off the ranch alone. 

"Clear," he pronounced.

“Anyone have any idea what we should be looking for?” Nick asked. 

Walker took a few steps forward, the floorboards creaking loudly beneath his feet. Stopping, he looked down and bounced on his heels a few times. “There has to be a trap door hidden around here,” he replied.

Splitting up, they each tackled a section of the room, looking for anything that seemed out of place. The floorboards were rough-hewn and old, cracked in many places from the dry heat of the desert.

Troy headed to the back wall, near a smashed-up Buick that had been stripped of its doors, tires, and engine, among other things. He stomped his feet across the floor, listening for a change in the echo for a possible hollow spot.

“Keep it down, idiot,” Nick jibed.

Ignoring Nick’s playful insult, he brought his foot down again and finally heard what he had been hoping for. “It’s over here! I found it!”

Walker and Nick stopped what they were doing and headed in Troy’s direction, where he continued to stamp his heavy steel toe boots, despite the ominous cracking sounds warning him to stop. Hearing a rasping wheeze come from behind him, he paused his assault on the floor to address the issue. 

One of the infected had been in the back seat of the Buick and was dragging itself out. From the looks of it, they must have been alive when they crawled into the car. _Poor bastard_ , Troy thought, unsheathing his machete. Time to go night-night for good. Taking a step towards the corpse, he raised it high. 

The floor beneath Troy gave way with a deafening crack just before he could bring the blade down into the walker’s skull.

He was right, he _had_ found the entrance of the smuggling tunnel. Piles of rubble were heaped around the man-made cavern, mounds of earth and stone that had been excavated to make the illegal passageway. Troy fell backward into the darkness, feeling briefly like Hans Gruber at the end of  _Die Hard_. The fall was a short one, though, and he probably would have been able to get up and walk it off if it hadn’t been for the chunk of granite jutting out from the dirt pile below him.

Troy landed on his side with a thud, his temple smashing against the jagged rock. Rolling onto his back, the edges of his vision swam as he tried desperately to get up. He was so tired, though, so incredibly tired all of a sudden. Struggling to keep his eyes open, he tried to focus on the circle of light coming from the hole above him. A shadow passed across the bright halo, the silhouette of a figure moving towards the edge, and he found himself struggling to remember who had been up there.

A familiar voice screamed his name from above.  _Nick_ , he thought happily. Nick was up there. Nick would save him.

As the walker stumbled over the edge of the hole and fell towards him, Troy succumbed to the blackness. 


	7. Chapter 7

_Te amo, por eso quiero que seas feliz._.

 _I love you, that’s why I want you to be happy_.

Those were the words Luciana had left Nick with, hastily scribbled on a napkin while he slept. He had used the romantic moonlight picnic to try to convince her to stay on the ranch with him. Although she did love him, and she did want him to be happy, the line she had wanted to finish the note with was “and you will never be happy while your mother is in your life.”

Luciana had met Nick on one of his many attempts to escape from his mother's control. He had been honest with her from the start about his past drug use, and from the way he described his family dynamic, she had started to think maybe it wasn’t his addiction that was causing his mother to be so controlling – it way the other way around. She had been soured on Madison Clark before they had ever met face to face. Once she had spent some time with her, Luciana wasn't surprised to find she liked the woman even less.

Nick had been a pain in her ass from the very beginning, and she had briefly regretted saving his life when he almost screwed up their deal with the gang holding the supermarket. There was an earnest charm to him that drew her in, though. He was smart, and funny, and cute, and it was the end of the damn world, so why the hell not, she had figured. Although he was a few years her junior, it wasn’t until they were reunited with his family that she saw how immature he really was.

She could not fathom how he was able to stay at the ranch with the monsters who had killed everyone he had tried just saved from  _La Colonia_. The same people who had been gleefully torturing anyone who happened to venture too far across the border. The same people who shot her and nearly _killed_ her. It had been difficult to leave him behind, but if he couldn’t see why the two of them living happily ever after at the Broke Jaw Ranch was never an option, he was not as smart as she had originally thought.

After leaving the ranch, she made her way to Mexicali to see if her friends were still there. Unsurprisingly, their house had been empty. She stayed there a few nights just in case they might come back, knowing in her heart they were long gone. On the third night, a medium-sized herd had moved through the neighborhood. Luciana had pulled the drapes closed tight and hid in a closet until the following morning. Right before dawn, she had heard someone screaming for help. She stayed put, not wanting to sacrifice her own safety. The screams hadn’t lasted long.

Making her way outside a few hours later, Luciana disposed of the few stragglers that had stayed behind after the crowd had passed through. She had run into a few people on the road to Mexicali who were headed to the old bullfighting arena on the outskirts of town. Apparently, it had been converted into some kind of trading post. Since she had no real plans on where to go next, she figured it would be a good place to start. It hadn’t been very far of a walk, and she had arrived well before the sun started to set.

Checking her guns in at the gate, against her own better judgment, she traded in some things she had scavenged along the way for tokens. It was an efficient system they had set up there in such a short time. Whatever order was perceived from the outside, however, quickly disappeared upon entering the arena.

The main marketplace was in the center of the arena, under a makeshift roof made out of a patchwork of plastic sheeting. Stalls were separated out, with vendors selling everything under the sun. With so many people having lost so much recently, it really was a sellers’ market – particularly if you had food, water, or weapons.

The more illicit transactions took place in the concourse that ran around the arena, and a small section near the animal stalls had been converted into short-term housing. Securing a place for herself for the evening, she headed back outside to the makeshift restaurant that stood at the center. She had smelled the grill the minute she stepped outside, and her stomach rumbled in response. Ordering herself a plate, she settled in at a table against the wall of the arena.

At a table nearby, several tough-looking men were speaking in hushed tones; Luciana was still able to hear most of their conversation without really trying.

“…scouted the area three times, they didn’t find any bodies,” one of the men said. There was some indecipherable grumbling in response.

“A few of the workers that got out said they saw a boat leaving before the dam blew. Strand and the blonde woman were on it, for sure. No one’s seen any of them?” a burly man in a denim cut asked the table. They all shook their heads in response – no one had. “How about the skinny kid and his friend?”

Luciana’s heart leaped into her throat. She had heard them all talk about Victor Strand; he was one of the men the Clark’s had been traveling with at the start. And he was with a blonde woman? And a skinny kid? It couldn’t just be a coincidence. That meant they had left the ranch. What dam were they talking about? She shifted imperceptibly in her seat to be able to hear better.

“None of the workers remember the one we saw by the bikes, but they all say the darker haired guy that was working for The Butcher was standing on the dam when it blew. One swears he was the one who flipped the switch,” a third man cut in, pausing to take a drag off his cigarette. “And he thinks John was standing up there with him.”

One of the men in the group had been sitting back quietly, taking everything in. Though not the most intimidating looking of the group, he certainly had the most command. Clearing his throat to speak, the rest of the men at the table shut up immediately. “Anyone who was on top of that dam when it went is dead. Time to move on.”

If there was a response from the table, Luciana didn’t hear it. She suddenly felt like she was underwater. Everything was muffled and she wasn’t able to breathe. Maybe it was just a coincidence, she thought. Maybe it wasn’t Madison and Nick with Strand after all. Why would they have left the ranch anyway?

She had too many questions. Before she jumped to any conclusions, she needed to find out what happened at this dam. The men had mentioned someone called the Butcher; Luciana assumed it was more of a nickname than an occupational choice, and if it was Nick they were talking about, she knew where to start.

Clearing her trash off her table, she pulled aside the harried looking waitress and slipped her a few tokens for information on where she needed to go. The server had eyed her skeptically, but gave her the information nonetheless. Luciana took a deep breath and headed back into the darkened halls of the concourse. Approaching a strung-out looking young woman about her own age, Luciana asked for directions.

“ _¿Dónde está El Matarife?_ ”

 

\-- 

 

“Stay with me, Troy,” Nick commanded his friend. Troy was still unconscious, his breathing ragged but even. That was all Nick cared about at the moment. As long as he was still breathing, there was a chance he would survive.

He and Taqa had rushed to where Troy had fallen through the floor, not quite in time to prevent the walker from tumbling in after him. Whereas Troy landed on his back, the corpse had gone in head first, and it had folded in half the wrong way when it landed, bringing to Nick’s mind some old Road Runner cartoon he had seen as a kid. The hungry coyote had run off a cliff and crumpled up like an accordion as it hit the desert floor below. Thankfully, Troy was just out of its reach, although it continued to thrash about wildly, unbothered by its new injuries.

The trap door was a few feet behind where the floor had opened up, and there was a narrow set of stairs that led down to the underground room. Taqa took care of the walker while Nick knelt by Troy’s side. The gash in his head was bleeding badly, and the side of his face was already turning black and blue. Nick whipped off his t-shirt and pressed it firmly against the cut.

Unable to wake Troy up, they had been forced to carry him back up the rickety stairs. They piled back into the SUV, Nick holding Troy’s head on his lap in the backseat while Taqa drove.

“Can’t you drive any faster?” Nick implored.

“It’s a two-hour ride back, Nick,” Taqa responded gravely, pressing his foot down harder on the gas all the same.

The bleeding had slowed down significantly by the time they got back into the town, but Troy had not shown any signs of waking up. It was early afternoon, and the mansion was nearly deserted as the rest of the group had gone about their preparations for the battle ahead. Alicia happened to be in the kitchen, still cataloging the food and supplies they had brought in earlier. She heard the SUV screech to a halt in front of the house and rushed to see what had happened. Taqa was carrying Troy like a rag doll, a blood-soaked cloth wrapping his head.

Taking charge of the situation, Alicia commanded them to the living room as she ran to get the makeshift medical kit she had prepared for the next day. Despite her mother's confidence that no one would get injured, she had not been as optimistic. She'd have to remember to tell her 'I told you so' later. Nick was hovering over Troy nervously. Needing him out of her way, Alicia ordered her brother to get water.

“What happened?” she asked Walker. He gave her a quick rundown. Just to be sure, they checked his body for bites. Finding none, Alicia turned her attention back to the head wound. The shirt had started to dry against his head, and she knew pulling it off could start it bleeding again, so she had to work quickly and carefully. Soaking the shirt with the water Nick brought back, she carefully peeled the darkened fabric away.

The skin on the side of his head had split open, and she could see the white of bone through it. She was fairly certain there had to be some kind of a fracture, but without the ability to take an x-ray, there would be no way to know for sure. The good news was that there was no indentation, no visible bone fragments, so whatever damage there was wouldn’t need any kind of surgical intervention. At least she hoped.

After cleaning it, she did her best to close the laceration with butterfly sutures she had found. As she pinched and prodded the wound, Troy shifted under her, groaning in pain. Nick had been leaning against the doorframe nearby, still shaken by the violence that had happened in that very room the night before. The sound brought him scrambling back to his sister’s side.

“Mom’s out with Victor,” Alicia said handing her brother the walkie-talkie from her hip, “Call her in.”

By the time Madison made it back to the mansion, Troy had opened his eyes and was responsive. He hadn’t been able to speak yet, which concerned Alicia, but he could wiggle his fingers and toes, so there didn’t seem to be any major damage to his spinal cord. She found herself wishing they were already back at  _El Bazar_ , with Eddie and his back-room hospital set-up.

They brought Madison and Victor up to speed on the situation. She bent down close to Troy’s ear and spoke softly to him, smiling and telling him they were going to get him help.

“Taqa, Nick, let’s talk in the kitchen.” It was less a request than a demand.

Madison leaned against the counter, arms crossed over her chest. She was clenching her jaw; a sign Nick knew that usually meant one thing – run.

“Did you at least get a chance to check the tunnel?” she asked, not bothering to keep her voice down.

Nick looked at his mother, appalled at her callousness. “It was there, don’t worry. The plan will work. I mean, we’re going to have to wait for Troy to be back on his feet-”

“We’re not waiting another goddamn minute,” Madison rebuked her son. “With Mel and his people, we’ve got the manpower now. Besides, head injuries can be unpredictable. He still might not make it through the night.”

“Do you even care?” Nick asked his mother angrily.

“Yes, of course I care, but we can’t keep just putting off the inevitable.”

“It’s only inevitable because of your insane need for revenge.”

Taqa excused himself from the conversation as it continued to escalate. Neither acknowledged his departure, and he could still hear their angry voices as he headed outside. He passed Alicia in the hall as she headed into the kitchen to join her mother and brother, a dour look on her face. Madison Clark’s children were as bull-headed as their mother, and it was best to give them a wide berth when they started in on each other.

Alicia stormed into the kitchen. “Can you keep your voices down? No one else needs to hear this. We have to present a united front.”

Her brother faked a laugh, “Ha! Yeah, let’s see how long that act lasts. What’s our current record for staying together, a week?”

“You’re the one who always leaves first,” Alicia reminded him harshly, “So I guess we’ll just have to wait until you need your next fix to see.”

“Or maybe we’ll just have to wait until you find your next boyfriend,” Nick spat back at her.

“Afraid she’s going to steal yours?” Madison chastised.

“Fuck you,” Nick growled. Madison stepped towards him threateningly, her hand raised to hit him. He flinched reflexively.

Alicia stepped in between them, looking her mother dead in the eye. “Don’t you dare.”

Madison lowered her arm, her face falling as she saw her son cowering behind his sister. She remembered seeing her mother like that. Had she turned into her father after all? “I’m sorry… I wouldn’t have…” her voice cracked as she tried to find any excuse for what had almost just happened.

“Everybody needs to chill out right now. We’re all on edge. Mom is right, though- we can’t put this off another day,” Alicia attempted to diffuse the situation, a skill she had honed over the last four years of this bullshit. As Nick started to protest, she held up her hand to shush him. “We also aren’t going anywhere without Troy.”

“We don’t even know if he can walk yet,” Nick said, his voice tinged with sadness.

“Which is exactly why he needs to go. His brain could be swelling, or he could have a major fracture in his skull, or a broken spine…” Nick’s face dropped as she went on. She put her hand on his shoulder to comfort him. “All the medical equipment we need is at the bazaar. Plus, they have a real doctor.” _Kind of_ , she added in her head.

Her temper having cooled, Madison knew her daughter was right. “He can stay at the station with Nick until it’s clear. We can’t risk having him with us. If we have to run, he’d be dead weight.”

Staring blankly out the kitchen window, Nick nodded, still not able to look at his mother. “Of course,” he said softly. He had not planned on leaving Troy’s side until his condition had improved, anyway. God forbid his mother decided to do away with any “dead weight” in the middle of the night.

“Hey!” Victor’s voice called excitedly, “Get in here!”

The Clarks headed back to the living room, anticipating the worst. Upon seeing Troy sitting up on his own, however, their fears quickly dissipated.

Madison knelt in front of him. “How are you feeling?”

“L-L-Like shit,” Troy spoke haltingly, his throat dry. Alicia handed him some water, which he sipped slowly.

“You shouldn’t be moving around,” she scolded him gently.

Troy struggled with his response, frustrated at his inability to get the words out. “I-I’m. Fi- Fine.”

Putting her hand on his knee, Madison spoke soothingly, “We’re going to get you to someone who can help you. You have to take it easy until then.”

He shook his head at her, immediately regretting the movement. The jolt of pain that seared through his skull temporarily blinded him and a wave of nausea rolled through his gut. Closing his eyes against the pain, he leaned back against the couch cushions, accepting defeat. “K-kay,” he finally said in a small voice.

“Don’t worry, man, we’re not going to leave you behind,” Nick consoled him. After Jeremiah had told him the story of Troy being locked in the basement and forgotten about, and seeing his reaction after being sent away, Nick knew his friend had a fear of abandonment.

“That’s right. You’re family now,” Madison said, “And family sticks together through thick and thin.”

Nick and Alicia locked eyes over their mother’s head, knowing the last bit was directed at them.

 _Sure, we're just one big, happy family now,_ Nick thought grimly,  _and mother knows best._

 

\--

 

While helping organize the supplies with Alicia all morning, Daniel had learned a great deal about the girl. She was wise beyond her years, though she suffered from the same impulsiveness that often got her mother in trouble. They were bright enough to get out of the sticky situations their rash decisions had landed them in so far. Daniel was hoping to get to a place where they could avoid those situations in the first place.

It seemed Madison had really taken to his plan, even though she had come to think of it as her own, no doubt. He was fine with that. He had planted the seed and was content to sit back and watch it grow. The arrival of that caravan of weirdos had been an amazing turn of fate, one Daniel could not have predicted. He knew they would need to expand their group at some point, though, so it hadn’t done anything except bump up the timeline.

After finishing with the pantry, he had done a final walkthrough of the town, marveling at how thoroughly the group had stripped it. They had gone back through and put back a few basics that each home would need - linens, kitchenware, and other such sundries. Food would be rationed out per person, per day. Taking a cue from the ranch, Madison had suggested they have a cafeteria style dining system, and Daniel agreed.

They were going to try it out for the first time that later afternoon, hosting a gathering in the backyard of the big house. The people had not had much time to mingle, and it was imperative everyone in the group trust each other, if only just for this endeavor.

Trust was a thing to be earned daily now. Priorities and alliances shifted often and with little notice. Daniel had made sure to speak to as many of the newcomers as possible that morning, spreading the propaganda of _La Reina_ , the title he had assigned Madison. She was enduring it, if not embracing it, and he gave her credit for picking her battles.

That’s not to say he wasn’t still enjoying pushing her buttons. He couldn’t wait to see her face at the fiesta later when the group informed her of the name they had come up with for the town:  _Pueblo de la Reina_ , the Queen’s Village.

He wasn’t doing any of this maliciously; to the contrary, he wanted Madison to succeed. He just didn’t trust that she quite knew how without a bit of nudging from him. She was a proud woman, and he thought feeding her ideas through her children was the best for everyone. It wasn’t his fault her children resented her so much; they had before this whole mess began, and it appeared they might always feel that way. Forgiveness was something families often needed but was rarely given in abundance. Daniel had learned that lesson the hard way.

The loss of his daughter, for the third and final time, had left Daniel bereft. Griselda had been a die-hard Catholic, and Daniel refused to disgrace her memory by ending his own life. He hadn’t lost his grip on reality this time. Instead, he had immediately returned to Lola’s side, set to help her defend the dam. Her death was too soon after Ofelia's; he was already emotionally raw, and had no tears left to cry. When he saw Nick standing still on top of the dam, waiting to die, he decided enough was enough. He all but dragged the boy to safety.

He had grown up in an environment like the one they were growing up in now. El Salvador was one of the most dangerous places in the world - _probably not anymore_ , he thought – and he had been younger than these children when he learned what needed to be done to survive. Good or evil, if it hadn’t been for the men who showed him the way, he would have died at an early age. All he could do was pay it forward.

A few of the members of Mel’s crew had offered to cook, and they were setting up their barbecues in the backyard as Daniel made his way back up the long driveway. The gates were open, and he saw one of the black Escalades out front. The boys had come back earlier than expected it seemed.

Entering the house through the garage, he heard the yelling from the kitchen the minute he walked in. Quietly closing the door behind him, he tried to eavesdrop. Even though he couldn’t quite make out the words, he was sure it was the Clark family. None of them seemed happy. Almost as soon as it had started, it stopped, and he heard Strand’s voice call out from the front room.

He slunk back in the shadows until the family had passed, then headed out into the backyard, where Mel and Lee were setting up tables they had found in the storage shed out back. It seemed odd to see people preparing for a social event, given the current situation they were all in. Alicia had been right when she said things had to start to return to normal sometime. They may not go back to staring at their phones all day any time soon, but being able to sleep without becoming a meal was a good start.

Seeing Daniel approach, they stopped what they were doing to talk to him. Since neither of them had been seen at the bazaar with the Clarks, they were heading there that evening to do some surveillance, and because if everything went according to plan, they were going to be needed on the inside when the shit hit the fan.

“It’s a shame you are going to miss the party,” he said.

“From what Nick told us, there’s plenty of things to occupy our time at the bazaar,” Mel snickered. Lee did not seem amused, nor did he seem overly fond of the man standing next to him. “What, you said we have to try to blend in," he said, looking to Daniel.

“I meant change your clothes. You look like a mental patient,” Daniel said plainly. Lee howled with laughter, as Mel rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, I’m going to go grab my stuff.” Mel slunk away, his tail between his legs.

“We leave in ten,” Lee called after him, still chuckling as he wiped the tears from his eyes.

Daniel helped Lee load the jeep with some things they could trade for their stay at the bazaar that night and saw the men off. He nodded in approval when he saw Mel had changed into cargo pants and a plaid button-down, and the younger man held up his hands and shrugged in response. Closing the gate behind them, Daniel could smell the grills getting fired up. They wouldn’t have steaks that evening, but there was a variety of canned meats that had been dressed with spices and sauces, and a few big pots of stew.

He would be staying behind tomorrow, guarding the village with two people from Mel’s group. Everyone else was going to be needed at the bazaar tomorrow. The likelihood that the town would come under siege while they were gone was small, but in case anything went wrong, everyone had been told to scatter for a few days until they knew they weren’t being followed. They didn’t want to risk losing two strongholds in one fell swoop.

Everything seemed to be in order, so Daniel decided to take a little _siesta_. This peace and quiet would not last forever, so he may as well enjoy it while he could.

 

\--

 

Madison had indeed been embarrassed by the naming of the town, but she took it in stride and even raised her glass when Daniel had toasted her with a loud “ _Viva la Reina_!”. The gathering had been a success, and the two groups had begun to mingle naturally. Nick stopped by briefly to fill a couple plates for him and Troy, as the rest of the group sat and chatted with their new companions.

As it turned out, they weren’t as weird as they had seemed on the surface. Like Madison’s faction, up until a few months ago, these people were average Joes. Accountants. Service workers. Students. And just like them, they had lost everything. It didn’t matter where anyone had been before, the playing field had been leveled when the first dead body got up and took a bite out of the guy next to him.

The party ended before the sun had fully set; it was important that no lights be left burning at night to keep the dead, and the living, from easily spotting them. Madison headed upstairs to check in on Troy and Nick. Knocking gently, Nick cracked the door and slid out, pulling the door closed behind him. “He’s sleeping.”

“Any change?” she asked.

“He said the words looked funny when he tried reading. Nothing else, just the words on the page,” Nick said. His face was expressionless, which was not something Madison was used to. Alicia had the poker face, but she had been able to read her son from the first time he tried to lie to her. 

Assuming he was still mad at her, she prodded him. “You know, I think it will be good for you three to stay here for a while. We could have to go out on the road again in a few weeks, so you can all get some rest, get your strength back up.”

His face showed a glimmer of emotion when she mentioned the possibility of having to fight again, but he choked back his anger. She had brought that up on purpose, to get a rise out of him, and he knew it.

“Well, speaking of getting rest, I better go get some. Alicia has us waking Troy up every few hours to check on him, so we’ll need it,” Nick replied calmly, ignoring her attempt to egg him on and responding with one of his own.

“Alicia’s in there?” Madison asked. 

“The first twenty-four hours after a head injury are critical. She doesn’t want to leave him alone. Head injuries are unpredictable,” he threw her words back in her face. Making no move to open the door behind him, Nick crossed his arms over his chest. “Good night, Mom.”

She took the hint and headed to the end of the hall, where she hoped to find Victor drinking in the office as usual. He wasn’t. Instead, Daniel was sitting at the massive mahogany desk, leaning back in the large leather chair.

“Madison,” he greeted her, sitting up straight, “How are you?”

Pulling one of the smaller chairs in front of the desk, she sat opposite Daniel. “My children hate me, my best friend lost his hand, and thirty people are looking to me to lead them into a battle tomorrow where we are outnumbered and outgunned. I’m just fucking peachy.” She laughed, a deep, genuine laugh.

Daniel was reminded of why he had decided to stick with the Clark family in the first place. Granted, if Griselda had not gotten injured, they would have never even met Madison and her children. During the time they had spent on the Abigail together, she had made quite an impression on him.

“I know what you’re doing, Daniel,” she said, slumping back, lacing her fingers across her ribs.

He had not been expecting that. “What- what do you mean?”

“Playing the puppet master, pulling everyone’s strings behind the scenes.” She was smirking. He couldn’t tell if it meant she was about to laugh or stab him.

He decided not to try to deny it; he had been caught, and lying would only make it worse. “Guilty. But I’m only trying to help. I believe we can do this.”

“I know. If I thought for one minute you were trying to screw us over, you’d be out in the desert feeding the buzzards,” she said, standing up and stretching. “No more though. I’ll play the part of  _La Reina_ , but only with you by my side, not behind me.”

He chuckled as he agreed to her terms, “Of course, your majesty”.

Madison made her way back out of the room, stopping at the doorway and turning back to Daniel. He could see a faraway sadness in her eyes. 

“Take care of my kids for me, will ya?”


	8. Chapter 8

Luciana woke up with her head pounding and her mouth dry. Slowly getting her bearings, she realized her hands and ankles had been tied. Fully opening her eyes, she took in her surroundings. She was in a stall, laying on a pile of moldy hay. Sitting up, the world spun around her as she struggled to remember how she got there.

She remembered seeing the Butcher. He had confirmed her worst fears; it was Nick they were talking about. The dam explosion was big gossip in the arena, and everyone she spoke to had their own version of the story to tell. The common thread was that the men who ran the bazaar, the Proctors, had tried to take over a dam in Tijuana but were defeated by a family who decided to blow it up rather than handing it over. The son had stayed behind, sacrificing himself for his mother.

That had Nick and Madison Clark written all over it. When she left the ranch, Luciana had believed that she would never see him again, but she hadn’t been prepared to find out he was dead. She had been tempted to ask the Butcher to give her whatever he had given Nick; alcohol would suffice for her, though. Pawning more of her supplies, she took her earnings right to the bar.

“ _Tequila. Dos, por favor_.” She signaled to the barmaid. “And keep them coming.”

That’s where her memories started to get fuzzy. It had been early evening when she started drinking. She vaguely recalled talking to two men at the bar – a white guy who had been more than a little annoying, and his Native American friend, who had been just as annoyed by the man as she was. It started to come back to her in bits and pieces. The man had been trying to chat her up; she had shot him down firmly. Even if she hadn’t been grieving, the guy had seemed like a creep.

It hadn’t been them that had tied her up. Her mental fog lifted, and she remembered the Proctors coming into the small bar area. The man she had seen earlier, the one who had seemed to be in charge, had come right over and sat next to her, saying nothing. The other two men quietly picked up their drinks and walked away. In spite of the obvious danger, there had been nothing she could do. Trying to play it cool, she sipped her drink, not acknowledging her new neighbor.

“This is a small enterprise,” he started. “John had grand ideas about expanding, but most of us? We’re happy being big fish in this here little pond. That doesn’t mean we’re okay with what your friends did at the dam.”

Feigning confusion, Luciana tried to object. The man cut her off. “Don’t bother. We know everything that goes in this arena, and I know you’ve been asking questions.”

“I was just curious.” She wished she had not had so much to drink. “That’s all.”

“Why talk to the Butcher then?” he prompted. “He said you asked some pretty specific questions about the stringy-haired guy.”

Thinking on her feet was not easy in her inebriated state, so she went with a modified version of the truth. “He sounded like a guy who came to a town I was staying at. He ended up bringing down our whole village. I was hoping it was the same guy. It’d be nice to know he finally got what he deserved.” Looking down at her empty glass, she tried to keep the tears from filling her eyes.

“Well unfortunately for you, it turns out he’s still alive. For now at least. My guys picked him up this morning,” the new head Proctor taunted.

“Nick?!?!” Her head snapped up; she had blown her cover before she even realized he was goading her.

The man smiled. It was a menacing smile, and Luciana felt a chill run down her spine. She had been tricked. “Nick, is it? I’ll try to remember that. I’ve never been good with names. He’s not here, obviously. Your boyfriend. We don’t know where he is, or the rest of your friends, but if you’re here, it seems pretty likely that they might be close by. Why don’t you just make things easy on yourself and tell us where to find them, and we can avoid this getting messy.”

Luciana spat in his face in response. After that things got blurry again, only vague memories of being dragged through a dark corridor to the stall she was currently in. The early-morning sunlight streamed through the cracks in the slatted wood walls. Peering out, she saw a guard outside her makeshift cell.

“Excuse me?” she asked. “I have to use the bathroom.”

“I’m not stopping you,” the man replied snidely.

Sitting back against the wall, Luciana was suddenly struck by the hopelessness of her situation. There was no one coming to rescue her; she didn’t have anyone left to even worry about her if she went missing. She was completely alone in the world now. Once the Proctors realized she knew nothing, they would kill her. She didn’t know how far they were willing to go to get information from her first. If only she had stayed at the ranch, she thought, maybe none of this would be happening. Maybe Nick would be alive.

At least she’d be joining him soon.

\--

 

It had been almost impossible for Lee to get any sleep that night, between the general noise of the bazaar and Mel’s snoring. He had never been able to sleep the night before a big mission, anyway. Rolling out of bed, he threw his boot at his roommate.

Mel woke with a start, rubbing his head in the spot where the shoe had made contact. “Was that necessary?”

“After having to listen to you wheeze all night, yes, it was,” Lee grinned, pulling a t-shirt over his head.

The two had gotten along better than he had expected. Although they had almost nothing in common, a mutual love of the Dallas Cowboys had given them more than enough to talk about. Daniel had instructed them to try to blend in, but they also needed to make sure they were seen. They ate their dinner at one of the picnic tables in the center of the arena, making sure to be pleasant and tip the waitress generously.

After dinner, they had wandered the stalls of the marketplace, making a few trades and engaging in small talk. By early evening, they had made their way to a bar in the back, closer to where they knew the Proctors would hang out. Ordering two warm beers, they sat at the bar, a few spots down from a very attractive Hispanic woman in her early twenties.

“ _Hola_ ,” Mel had said to her immediately, and Lee cringed. Listening to the guy try to chat her up was almost laughable, and he could tell immediately that she was not in the mood for it. He tried to interrupt a few times to rescue her. Mel either didn’t realize or didn’t care.

When the Proctors came in and sat down on the other side of her, it had almost been a blessing; until Lee realized they were to talk to the girl themselves. He tugged the elbow of Mel’s wool jacket, and they grabbed up their beers and left.

Although no one had said a word before they left, they had both gotten the impression that the girl was in trouble, or shortly would be. There was nothing they could do about it then, but in less than twenty-four hours, the Proctors would no longer be in power, and no one would be in danger anymore. All she had to do was last the night.

Mel must have sensed what was on his mind. “She seemed pretty tough,” he declared, sounding like he was trying to convince himself it was true at the same time.

“We can’t worry about it. If we mess up, the Proctors will end up killing a whole lot more people. Including us,” Lee said. “Let’s go.”

Even though the market never officially shut down inside, it did get quiet for a few hours around dawn - after the late-night fun-seekers had passed out for the night, before the early birds started hounding the vendors for deals. There was an older man selling coffee and nearly stale pastries, the kind that filled vending machines in offices all over the country. They grabbed some breakfast and made their way to the stands that encircled the arena.

Taking a pair of seats up high near the entrance, they ate their muffins and enjoyed the silence. In a matter of hours, there would be mass hysteria in these walls, and it was going to be their job to start it. They had gotten the impression last night while talking to a few permanent residents of the trading post that confidence in the current leadership had waned after the Proctors recent and very public defeat. It wasn’t going to be difficult to sow the seeds of discontent in this group. The people seemed almost on the verge of mutiny as it was. Madison’s takeover might go a lot smoother than any of them had anticipated.

 

\--

 

No one had been prepared for how difficult it was to tell time in the apocalypse, and the lack of alarm clocks made synchronizing plans a challenge. Daniel had stayed awake all night to make sure the group was up when they needed to be. He went to Madison’s room first. He had promised her no more sneaking around, and he had meant it. Knocking gently, he heard her call for him to enter.

“Did you sleep at all?” Daniel asked.

“A few hours. Don’t worry,” Madison reassured the older man, “I’m the least important person in this plan anyway.”

He nodded in agreement. “You and me both.”

The plan had fallen together easily, and two big risks needed to be taken. Somehow those responsibilities had been assigned to either one of her children. Madison knew there was no other way, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t still worried. This whole idea had started because of her need to keep them safe. That she might lose them in that quest was a very real thought that stayed with her at all times.

Pulling on her leather jacket, she followed Daniel back out into the hallway. “I’ll let you wake them up,” she gestured to Troy’s door on her way down the stairs. “I don’t think any of them are thrilled with me right now. Meet me in the garage.”

She had been right; her son barely acknowledged her as he walked in with Troy and Daniel, and Alicia hadn’t even bothered to come down. Madison was encouraged to see that Troy had, in fact, l made it through the night and was managing to move around without any assistance. Alicia must have just changed his bandages; the gauze was still clean and white. The foursome piled into one of the SUVs, and Madison drove the short distance to the warehouse they had found the first day.

It had seemed inhumane and potentially dangerous at first, to not do something to take care of the walkers that were trapped in the back of the truck. They had secured the truck gate and locked up the building itself, as extra assurance until they figured out how to dispose of so many at once without wasting too many bullets. Things had started to move very quickly after that though, and the former townsfolk of _Pueblo de la Reina_ had been forgotten as their plan for revenge rolled forward. In fact, Madison hadn’t given them a second thought until Nick had made his sarcastic quip about needing more people the other night.

 _Bodies_ , she had said. They needed _bodies_ , not people. And they just happened to have a spare hundred or so laying around.

Nick and Troy were heading out with Madison’s undead army before the rest of the group left, since they were going to need some extra time to set up. The warehouse was cool and dim inside. Madison had taught Nick how to drive a manual transmission herself, but handling a vehicle this size was different, especially considering their cargo. If he were to hit a gulley or tip the truck over some other way, the results would be catastrophic, to both the overall plan and Nick and Troy themselves.

“Drive slowly,” she warned her son.

“I’ll be fine,” he said as he walked around to the driver’s side. She followed after him, grabbing him before he could get in the truck.

“I’m serious. I know you’re mad at me, I get it. Just don’t use that as an excuse to go do something stupid.”

“I’m not mad. You said it to me yourself, I need to learn to do whatever it takes to survive.” Nick sighed, finally turning to face the woman who had raised him. He repeated himself, “I’m not mad, really.”

It was the truth. He couldn’t be mad at his mother for being herself. She had always been that way, and now she was allowed to show the world what she really was capable of. He would always love his mother; most of the time, however, he found it impossible to like her.

Daniel opened the gates of the warehouse leading to the truck ramp. “Time to go,” he said.

Troy and Nick climbed into the cab of the semi and got it started. As soon as the engine roared to life, and the occupants of the rig joined in with their chorus of terrifying sounds.

“We’ll contact you once we’re in range. Keep your radio on you.” Madison patted the side of the truck as Nick shifted it into gear. He nodded to her as he carefully drove the vehicle down the incline. Watching as the truck disappeared down the road, Madison closed her eyes and said a silent prayer that her son would be okay. Everything she had ever done was for her kids, she hoped they lived long enough to realize it one day.

 

\--

 

The drive back to the station the next day was turning out to be as silent as the first trip, though for a different reason. Troy was still finding it difficult to speak. He knew what he wanted to say, it just wouldn’t come out. Alicia had told him that side effects like this were to be expected, and that most of them were temporary or could be cured. Between his new stutter and the fact that he couldn’t read, though, he was finding it hard to stay upbeat.

There hadn’t been much for Troy to do on the ranch regarding entertainment growing up. His mother would dominate the living room television well into the night, usually passing out with a lit cigarette dangling from her hand and a half-drunk glass of vodka on the table beside her. Reading had been his only means of escape.

When he was still living at home, Jake would take him to the library, and Troy could spend hours picking out new things to learn about. World history, all the stories of war and conquering obviously appealed to him, but he found himself curious about psychology as well, since he had met with his fair share of professionals in his life. From what he had read, he knew he definitely had at least one major personality disorder, and not the kind that a handful of Xanax could help.

The sun was starting to rise on the horizon. As the truck swayed down the highway, Troy found himself being lulled to sleep. They had woken him up every two hours, as promised, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was still exhausted and in a lot of pain.

Nick let him doze, only waking him once they arrived at the station a few hours later. It stood exactly as they had left it, an encouraging sign, Nick thought. Slowly, he navigated the truck into the lot in front of the garage, doing his best to back the massive vehicle in. He finally got it in at a weird angle; it was the best he was going to be able to do. Jumping out of the cab, they both scanned the area again just in case, making sure no one had been there in their absence. It seemed safe, so they began to move on to the more difficult part of their plan.

Walking down the stairs into the hole he had fallen into just the day before felt strange to Troy. Lighting a few lanterns that were placed around the underground room, they got to work. Grabbing some of the lighter debris that was scattered around, they roughly blocked the tunnel entrance. Anyone with higher motor functions could tear it down easily, which was exactly how they wanted it. With that complete, they only had one thing left to do before Madison and the rest of her soldiers showed up.

“I need you to hide in the cab for this part,” Nick told him.

Troy was having none of it. “N-no w-w-,” he started.

Nick took advantage of his stammer to cut him off. “I’m not asking. You could still pass out at any second, and my sister said that an adrenaline rush could cause you to have a seizure. I can’t be worried about you while I’m doing this.”

“I f-feel. U-useless,” he said, struggling especially hard with the last word. His body sagged back against the truck.

“You’re not useless,” Nick said, putting his hands on Troy’s shoulders. “All of this is just temporary.”

“W-w-what if-f-,” Troy started.

“What if it’s not? We’ll figure that out then. Right now, you need to get in the cab of that truck and lock the doors until I come to get you.”

Troy finally did as he was told, rolling up the windows and locking the doors before he crouched down on the floor in front of the seat. He kept his pistol in his hand, ready for any kind of trouble. Pressing his ear against the door, he could hear the sounds of Nick working at the back of the truck.

Despite Nick’s assurance that he wasn’t useless, Troy was finding it hard to believe. He had been left behind or kept away from so much in his life, it worried him when people started to push him away. He hadn’t felt needed, let alone wanted, at any point in his life until the world ended. Then people had needed him, but he knew it was only for protection, to do the things they were unwilling to do.

What would happen if he couldn’t do those things anymore? Without any purpose, he would be dead weight – and dead weight was not something anyone could afford to lug around these days.

 

\--

 

There was no way to describe the sense of relief Madison felt when she saw her son climb out of the truck to greet her. She and Victor were together in the first of the four Escalades, the black SUVs led a line of about a dozen other vehicles, including the school bus Mel’s group had brought with them.

“No problems?” she asked.

Nick shook his head. “We’re all set.

One of the people from Mel’s group drove the El Camino into the lot beside them, and got out, tossing Madison the keys as they headed back to the bus. Handing them to her son, she addressed both him and Troy, who had joined them.

“If anything goes wrong, you scatter. You don’t go back the town, you don’t come looking for me, you run,” she told them sternly.

Nick smirked at her, and she knew her words were falling on deaf ears. In this case, she was glad for her son’s resistance. Not that she wanted Nick to come after her - she just hoped he would not leave his sister behind if it all went sideways. _Speak of the devil_ , she thought, as Alicia let herself out of the back seat of the truck and walked over.

“Holy shit, ‘Leesh,” Nick said solemnly. Troy was speechless, and would have been even without his recent brain injury.

Alicia’s face was mottled with bruises. Her bottom lip was split, and her left eye was ringed with a dark purple that blended to a sickly green as it faded outward. She smiled and batted her eyes at them, blood staining her teeth.

“I’m still prettier than you,” she teased.

Madison had not been prepared to see her daughter like that, either. No one had volunteered for the job; if it had been Madison that needed a beating, there might have been a sizeable line waiting to take a swing, but no one had wanted to hit Alicia in her beautiful face. Daniel stepped in after the girl had asked him herself. He knew how to hit someone without breaking anything, she had reasoned, and he had been unable to deny the logic.

The damage was temporary, as terrible as it may have looked, but the danger Alicia was about to face could have consequences that were very, very permanent. If she weren’t able to pull off her part, rest assured, everyone would be dead. It was a lot of pressure to put on her teenage daughter, she knew. Knowing she needed to get on the road, Madison tried not to dwell on the fact that this could possibly be the last time her family stood together. She’d had that thought way too often lately.

She gave her son a quick hug, and then gave one to Troy as well; the boy looked like he could use one. From the mess on his clothes, she could tell Nick had done the dirty work, so Troy must have been upset about being sidelined. No time to worry about anyone’s emotional state, she thought to herself. She’d have to tell Alicia to keep an eye on that. Keeping Troy from killing was turning out to be as tough as keeping Nick from getting high.

“We’ve gotta go, Mom,” Alicia nudged her mother.

Madison watched the two young men turn and head back into the faded garage in her rear-view mirror as she pulled out of the dirt parking lot, and then glanced in the back seat towards her daughter's mangled face. It would be a short ride the rest of the way to the bazaar. There was no turning back now. Within minutes, she could see the arena looming in the distance.

The Proctors had blocked off all but one entrance into the stadium parking lot when they took it over as a way to better control the flow of traffic in. There were usually two or three men posted at the gate, plus the prisoners chained to the bars to protect from walker attack as they paid their debts, with the majority of the armed guards up front by the check-in cages and meandering throughout the market.

There were only two of the Proctor’s men at the gate that morning, and Madison dispatched them quickly. The silencer she had found hadn’t worked quite like they made it seem in movies, but it suppressed the sound enough to not draw too much attention from the people still milling around the parking lot. Two quick shots out the driver’s side window and they had already won their first battle of the day.

Madison motioned out the window for the other cars to fall into formation. The eighteen-wheeler that had been the doomed plan of escape for the former residents of _Pueblo de la Reina_ backed up, blocking the entrance with the hatch facing the market’s processing area. A pair of bulletproof SUVs flanked each side, and the Vultures’ (Madison had started calling them that in her head at least) bus and other vehicles fanned out behind them.

It was showtime.


	9. Chapter 9

Lee and Mel had maintained their vantage point from earlier that morning and saw the convoy as it pulled in. They watched as the guard’s bodies dropped, and the rest of the group took their positions. As expected, as soon as the security force at the front of the arena saw what was happening, they moved on them fast. Madison’s team was faster. The windows of the bus had been blacked out, but suddenly there was a rifle barrel sticking out of each one. They opened fire before the Proctors at the gate had even lifted their guns.

Chaos broke out immediately. The people who were waiting to get in the gates started pushing their way through; meanwhile, the people on the inside had heard the gunshots and were all crowding around to see what was happening. Heading back down the bleachers, they worked their way into the thick of the crowds, feigning confusion over the situation. As they made their way towards the front, they saw the Proctors' guard, decked out in their riot gear, blocking the exit.

The crackle of a PA system filled the air, and there was a loud screech of feedback before Madison’s voice filled everyone’s ears.

“Good morning, people of _El Bazar_. My name is Madison Clark. You may not know me or my family by name yet, but you have no doubt heard about what happened at the Gonzalez dam.”

The crowd had stopped as soon as she began talking; upon hearing mention of the dam, a murmur rippled through the crowd.

Her voice reverberated through the stalls of the marketplace. “Do you know what the word Proctor means? A proctor is someone who holds people accountable and enforces discipline. By that definition, your guardians are doing a great job. Just take a look at this fence, and you’ll see all you need to know about the Proctor’s attitudes toward discipline.”

The guards could sense the tension building in the arena and started trying to get the crowd to disperse. Everything was happening faster than Lee had planned on; they didn’t want panic to break out inside until Alicia had done her part.

“Who is holding the Proctors accountable? What happens when the Proctors don’t deliver on the promises they have made to their people?” Madison’s voice echoed through the now near silent marketplace. “Their plan failed at the dam. Do you really have faith that these are the men to lead you into the next phase of civilization?”

Everyone in the arena had stopped what they were doing to listen to Madison, and many grumbled along in agreement. Lee wished he had some way of signaling to her outside; no one had anticipated her speech being quite as rousing as it was turning out to be. Luckily, the click of a car door over the loudspeaker signaled that the next phase was about to begin.

“In case anyone has any doubts about what happened at the dam, we’re returning your nurse, along with what is left of your former commander-in-chief.”

Lee and Mel had maneuvered their way to the front of the crowd and could see a small sliver out to the parking lot. Alicia had gotten out of the car and was walking slowly across the asphalt towards the arena, carrying Proctor John’s head in both hands as its jaw thrashed around, trying to clamp onto any part of her. She had been badly beaten, and her face was stained with tears. Mel made a mental note to congratulate the girl on her Oscar next time he got to talk to her.

Madison had gotten out of the car as well, and had walked to the side of the tractor-trailer, still talking into the radio. “This truck you see right here is jam-packed with the infected.” Pounding hard on the side with her fist, the truck started to sway, those awful groans and hisses punctuating her speech.

“If the Proctors don’t surrender themselves to us, we’ll set them loose inside your gates. Proctors – protect your people, do right by them for once. You have until noon,” Madison finished her ransom demand as Alicia neared the entrance.

A sandy-haired man in his forties pushed past Lee, shoving him aside as he breezed by the Proctors’ guards. Seeing as how none of them stopped him, he assumed the man was one of them, even though he wasn’t dressed in the normal black denim and leather attire that the rest of them wore.

“Alicia!” the man cried out, hustling towards her. He motioned for two of the guards to follow him as he approached, hands up. He took John’s head and handed it to one of them, leading them all back inside. Turning to the empty-handed guard, he instructed him to clear a path to the makeshift Proctor headquarters in the offices of the arena.

The mob parted with Lee and Mel caught on opposite sides as they rushed Alicia past, half the guards from the entrance were surrounding her, leaving only eight armed men with the surging throngs of people. They both watched until Alicia was out of sight; for the time being, they were counting on the Proctors to protect the girl. Once they felt sure she was out of harm’s way, Lee knew it was time to get the party started.

Turning to the stranger standing next to him, he said loudly, “She’s right. What have the Proctors really done for us?”

The man nodded thoughtfully, “The Proctors’ sent my son to the fence. He got bit. Lost his leg. Ended up killing himself so he wouldn’t be a burden.”

A woman standing nearby joined in, “You should hear how badly they treat their women. That poor girl they just drug back there…”

Mel had made his way over and started in on the rabble-rousing as more people began listening in. “There were only five of them at the dam. How many cars are out there right now? Fifteen? Twenty? And a truck full of _walkers_? We’re trapped.” His voice cracked on the last word. Even though he knew he wasn’t in imminent danger, being inside the walls for so long had been making him nervous.

“Surrender yourselves!” a voice called out from the back of the congregation, followed by shouts of agreement. What was left of the security team had backed themselves into a corner, and the group surged towards them angrily. One of the guards, a younger man who had probably been a college student not six months ago, panicked, sending a spray of bullets into the crowd, dropping a few bodies. None were headshots, Lee grimaced, noting that he’d have to take care of that ASAP.

That turned out to be the last straw. The mob surrounded the guards, grabbing up anything nearby as weapons as they revolted against the Proctors authority. Grabbing one of the fallen men’s guns, Lee pulled Mel back out of the increasingly hysterical crowd. Their job was done. Now all they had to do was sit back and watch while the place tore itself apart.

 

\--

 

Adrenaline coursed through Alicia’s veins as she carefully made her way across the lot. Getting a good grip on the decaying biker’s head had been a challenge, especially while trying to appear meek and scared. She was thankful when Eddie ran to her side, passing the skull off to one of the guards who followed him. They pressed through the throngs of people, and Alicia was surprised to see the masses were already on the verge of a riot. Lee and Mel had their work cut out for them, it seemed.

They headed back to the executive suites and offices where the Proctors had set up their main base of operation. Security had already tripled outside the doorway, and the civil unrest was spreading backward rapidly. Eddie nearly pulled her arm out of her socket as he drug her to where the remaining high ranking members of the motorcycle club sat around a large table, looking shaken.

“You must be Alicia. I’m Terry.” The man sitting at the head of the table stood to greet her. “John spoke very highly of you before he left. I think he may have had a little crush. Even with all those bruises, I can see why.” He gestured for her to sit.

“I liked him, too,” she said softly, dabbing at her eyes for effect. Although she had never been much for crying, with everything they had lost recently, it was easy to will a few tears forth.

“Yeah, he sure was swell. Anyway. We seem to be in a bit of a pickle here, Alicia. I’m really hoping you can give us some insight as to what this soccer-mom-from-hell has planned here,” he said as he sank back into his chair.

“Pretty much exactly what she said… although…,” she paused and looked down, picking at her nails.

“Go on.”

“I think they plan on letting the walkers loose no matter what happens. The woman’s totally nuts. Her son is dead, and she blames all of us. She can’t be reasoned with.” Burying her face in her hands, Alicia hoped she wasn’t selling it too hard.

“We know she’s been watching us. We caught one of her spies last night,” a scrawny bearded man sitting next to Terry chimed in.

An alarm went off in her head, and she was glad her face was still covered because there would have been no way of hiding her surprise. She had seen Lee in the crowd on her way back there. Could it be Mel? Wouldn’t Lee have radioed in this morning if there was trouble?

“A spy?” she inquired gently.

“Pretty little Latina, think she was the crazy kid’s girlfriend. Did you ever see anyone like that?”

 _Luciana_ , Alicia thought, _Shit_. She could blow her cover and ruin this whole thing.

“No, no one like that,” she lied. “And the son is dead. At least they said he was.” She may have been too hasty with her reply because Terry eyed her skeptically.

“Maybe you should take a look at her just to be sure. You’ve been through some trauma recently, it might help jog your memory,” he insisted.

Not having any other choice, Alicia allowed the men to lead her back to an old stable. Terry motioned for the guard to open the makeshift cell’s door. Even in the shadows, she knew it was Luci. Her brother’s girlfriend – or would it be ex-girlfriend? – sat on the floor in a pile of straw. She looked up at her, her face remaining blank. To Alicia’s relief, it appeared that Luciana also believed that not knowing each other would be better for both of them.

“Sorry, I really don’t remember seeing her. There were people there I didn’t see-,” Alicia shrugged.

“And you’re sure the boy is dead?”

The faintest glimmer of pain shot across Luciana’s face as Alicia nodded in assent. She couldn’t break now, and definitely not just to make Luciana feel better. After all, she had been the one to leave Nick, not the other way around. He had been devastated, and it was only then that he really started to pal around with Troy.

At that thought, Alicia’s mind began to race down a dark path. What would happen when Luciana saw how close Nick and Troy had gotten? Would she be okay keeping him around? Or would she try to convince Nick to leave again?

And what if she succeeded?

Alicia knew her mother would come unhinged. Troy, too, probably. Hell, even Daniel had seemed to be feeling all fatherly to her brother lately. If Nick left, there was no telling how bad things would get. This decision was above her pay grade. She’d let her mother handle it. Maybe she would be able to convince Luciana to leave before Nick got there. If she still thought he was dead, what reason would she have to stay anyway?

It would take a bit of finessing on a short timeline, but she thought they could pull it off. Heading back into the conference room with the Proctors she found that despite her relief at a solution to the Luciana problem, the group’s overall mood had cooled.

“We have no leverage on them now. And between the fleet of armed vehicles and the semi full of undead, they have us out-armed and outnumbered,” a greasy looking man sputtered.

“I didn’t even think taking the dam was a good idea in the first place,” another confessed. “I liked it here fine.”

Another man jumped in angrily, “Our brothers died at that dam, and you’re all just ready to surrender? Proctor John wouldn’t stand for this.”

“Proctor John is dead!” Terry bellowed, driving his knife into his predecessor’s reanimated head on the table, finally stopping its mouth from gnawing at the air. “And I don’t feel like following him. None of this shit here matters to me, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to risk dying for it.”

Everyone in the room seemed to agree on that point. By that time, the sounds of the riots in the arena could be heard through the thin walls, an occasional gunshot punctuating the cheers as the people overpowered the Proctors’ remaining guards. From the sound of it, the front of the trading post had already fallen, and she worried that the doors she was behind at the moment would soon be smashed in as the angry mobs came for their heads as well.

Terry shoved the heavy steel tanker desk in the corner of the room aside, straining at the effort. With it moved a few feet to the right, Alicia watched as Terry lifted a section of the floor out, revealing a hole about the size of a storm drain. Looking at the bellies on some of the men at the table with her, she thought a few of them might have a tough time fitting.

“Grab whatever you can. Anyone not back here in five minutes is shit outta luck,” Terry threatened, and the men scattered. Alicia followed Eddie as he hurried back to the infirmary, frantically grabbing things and shoving them in a bag.

“Stop. Eddie, Stop,” she said, grabbing his wrists. “You’re not going anywhere.” He looked at her, eyes narrowing as he picked up on what was happening.

“You’re with them.”

“I’m the daughter no one knows about,” she responded dryly. Apparently, the rumors of the dam takeover had left out her part in it. The workers had seen her come in with the Proctors, so no one had made the connection. He rubbed a hand over his face as he sighed

“You better be goddamn sure this plan is going to work out. I really don’t feel like dying today,” Eddie said, resigned. “And if that truck door opens, I am outta here.”

“Don’t worry about that. There’s nothing in that truck that can hurt you,” she replied cryptically.

Eddie looked at her, puzzled. “What does _that_ mean?”

 

\--

 

Troy and Nick sat on the floor, their feet dangling through the hole where the hatch had been. Nick had chopped the floor up a bit, widening the hole to reach where Troy had fallen through and breaking apart the stairs. He had been concerned that the rest of the floor would give way under the weight of the one hundred or so walkers that he had to lead into the garage’s hidden basement. So far, it seemed to be holding strong.

They had followed him off the truck like hungry lemmings. Standing on the opposite side of the crevasse he had just made in the floor, Nick had shouted and banged against the wall to keep them flowing. Bumbling towards him mindlessly, they fell over the ledge one by one, breaking each other’s falls as they landed on top of each other. No matter how serious their injuries were, they always tried to get back up.

Glancing down into the pit, Nick was impressed. This was the biggest group he had ever walked among, and he couldn’t deny the rush of excitement he got from it. It was a fitting analogy to his life. He had always felt like an outsider in the world, wearing a fake skin to blend in. If he took off his disguise and showed them who he really was, they’d eat him alive. It was no different now than it had been before.

The walkers in the cavern below stretched their arms frantically, trying to reach them, decomposing fingers mere inches from their toes. They could see the hastily-blocked entrance to the tunnel across the way, untouched by the new occupants of the space. Nick grabbed Troy’s wrist, checking his watch to see what the hold-up was. He was shocked to see that only thirty minutes had passed. Between the danger his sister and mother were currently in and the brutality he was about to witness – that he was about to inflict, rather – his nerves were fried.

They had listened in on the walkie-talkie as Madison had arrived and given her speech, but since then, they had heard nothing. It was incredibly nerve-racking for him. Troy and Nick sat in silence as they waited. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence; neither of them felt the need to fill the air with useless chatter. Alicia was the same way. It was the reason the three of them had fallen easily into their routine at the mansion. They all appreciated the quiet.

It also allowed them to hear the Proctors better as they got to the end of the tunnel. As with every other piece of this crazy plan, time was of the essence. Madison had to know the minute the Proctors got there. Fortunately for Nick, the new leader of the gang turned out to be a loudmouth.

“What the fuck is this,” the man roared. The debris that blocked the entrance started to shift as the Proctors cleared the passage. Nick and Troy backed away from the edge as the walkers’ attention slowly turned to the new sounds coming from behind them.

Nick flicked the radio on, whispering harshly, “Mom. They’re here.” His heart was racing, and a glance at Troy confirmed he wasn’t the only one amped up.

“Do it,” Madison’s short response came across the air. Nick wrapped a rubber band around the talk button and tossed the two-way radio to the ground by the tunnel exit. Troy handed him one of the automatic rifles they had brought with them, both setting their sights on the pile of debris that stood between the men who had taken the dam from them and the angry swarm of infected corpses ready to chow down.

Madison’s voice broadcast from the radio in the dirt. Luckily it had landed speaker side up, so the sound was clear. “Hello again, people of _El Bazar_. I know it’s not quite noon yet, but it looks like we aren’t going to have to wait to find out if the Proctors intend to turn themselves over to us or not.”

Nick heard shouting coming from the tunnel at the sound of his mother’s voice, and the last big chunk of the debris was cleared as a large gray-haired man stepped into the basement, followed closely by his minions. They came charging out, confused and angry at the unexpected transmission. It took a few seconds for them to process the situation; by the time they did, it was already too late.

The horde fell on them. A few of the men tried to escape back into the tunnel, which bought them a few extra minutes, as the rest were engulfed and ripped apart. In the end, Nick and Troy hadn’t needed to fire a shot. Their screams and the grunting of the feeding frenzy blended with Madison’s voice as she narrated their deaths.

“When the Proctors came for the dam, we stood our ground. We backed the good people who had distributed the water freely to the nearby villages. Rather than let the Proctors have it, we returned the water to the people who it rightfully belongs to. And every single one of us was ready to die for that. Some of us did.” She paused dramatically.

“What you just heard were the last words of your fearless leaders. Instead of turning themselves over, or even making a stand, they abandoned you and ran to save their own hides. People like that are so predictable.” The sound of the truck gate opening cut into her soliloquy. “Like we said, our issues were never with you. We would never put innocent lives at risk to further our own agenda the way the Proctors did.”

Nick imagined he could hear the reaction in the arena when they saw the “walkers” who had been making all that racket in the trailer of the truck. The younger kids and older people from Mel’s group had all wanted to help, and Nick had enjoyed listening to them when they had been practicing back in the town, occasionally throwing in tips on perfecting their hissing and groaning.

Everyone in the town already knew he had no problems walking with the flesh-eaters, and at least one of the pre-teen girls seemed to have developed a little crush on him because of it. Alicia had teased him that he was turning out to be the teen idol of the apocalypse.

 _Laying it on a little thick now, Mom_ , Nick thought. Thankfully, he knew his mother too well to buy into the bullshit she was spewing, though he had to admit she was good at it. Maybe her father’s political prowess had rubbed off on her. Hopefully, the people at the trading post were eating it up.

“We will step in and do what the Proctors couldn’t. We will make sure that those who want to take advantage of the weak are put in their pla-”

Madison’s campaign speech cut out abruptly as one of the walkers stepped on the radio, crushing it into the hardpacked earth under its feet. “Ready for the fun part?” he asked Troy.

For the first time since he had fallen through the floor, Troy smiled, and the despondent look that had been in his eyes of late was replaced with his normal murderous glint. Nick was happy to his friend back to his normal self, even if his normal self was not, well… normal.

“Let’s see if your aim is still any good,” Nick challenged.

“Still. B-better. Th-th-than. Yours,” Troy responded.

Grinning like madmen, the two young men opened fire on the crowd below them. Both were pleased to find that Troy’s marksmanship skills hadn’t suffered a bit.

 

\--

 

After they were sure the Proctors had made their escape, Alicia had sent Eddie to check in on Diana to tell her what was up. The doctor had been reluctant at first, and still seemed to be considering following the Proctors into the prohibition tunnels. After she filled him in on what was awaiting them at the other end, he had a change of heart. He followed her orders, mainly because he had no better options.

Before he left, she had him help her flip the bulky metal desk upside down on top of the hatch in the meeting room, making it impossible for anyone to get back out that way. She sat back down at the table, listening to the commotion as the marketplace took up arms against the Proctors. The people of the bazaar had been ready for a change in leadership and Madison had empowered them to fight back. It seemed Lee and Mel had done a heck of a job hyping up a revolution. Everything was going according to plan.

Except for Luciana being here, of course. There was nothing in the plan that had accounted for an angry ex-girlfriend.

When Alicia heard her mother cut in again, relaying the horrifying sounds of the Proctors deaths, she laughed out loud. She clapped a hand over her mouth, stifling the sound as she realized how ghastly it was for her to be laughing while those men were having the flesh torn off their bones. That wasn’t what had made her laugh, of course.

They had won. Their plan had _actually_ worked. Of course, the citizens and merchants would be skeptical of the new leadership at first, but the fact of the matter was that Madison and her group were heavily armed, and the people of the bazaar were not. She hoped Victor had been right about them not caring about anything beyond their safety and their wealth.

While waiting for her mother to finish up her speech and make her way to the office, Alicia took started to go through the paperwork that the Proctors had left behind. There were maps, notes on places that had already been scouted and looted, lists of people they had encountered who may be allies, and those who they would need to watch out for.

A heavy leather-bound ledger kept track of all the debts the Proctors held. The first order of business would be to forgive all of them. Everyone would get to start with a blank slate, and no one would ever be chained to the fence again. It would buy them a lot of goodwill, and they wouldn’t technically be losing anything.

About fifteen minutes later, she heard her mother’s familiar knock at the door to the suite. Peeking her head out, she saw Mel and Lee standing on either side of Madison, acting as her own personal queen’s guard.

Stepping aside so they could enter the suite, Alicia was caught off guard by the fierce hug her mother immediately trapped her in.

“I’m so glad you’re safe.” Madison pulled back, still gripping her daughter’s shoulders.

“Before we celebrate, I need to talk to you about a few things. In private.”

The two Clark women stepped back inside the meeting room, shutting the door behind them. Madison pointed to the desk that was flipped upside down on the floor.

“Clever,” she approved.

The overt display of maternal support was making Alicia uncomfortable, and of course, there was the matter of their unexpected prisoner, so she changed the subject. “Luciana is here.”

Her words brought Madison to a screeching halt. “What,” she asked flatly. Alicia relayed the story as she understood it. She apparently didn’t need to tell her mother her worries, however, because as soon as she stopped to take a breath, Madison cut in.

“We can’t let Nick see her here.” Her face was a mask of fear.

Alicia thought the overreaction was comical, as usual, until she remembered that her mother’s recent Nick-induced temper tantrums had body counts. “She thinks he’s dead. I haven’t corrected her. I figured you could make it clear that she wasn’t welcome here. Say we blame her for Nick’s death or something, that he was suicidal after she left.”

“My little problem solver. What am I gonna do without you?”

“You’re going to give me diabetes if you don’t stop with this sickly-sweet mother dearest routine,” she retorted, ignoring the question she hoped had been asked rhetorically.

Madison knew she was going overboard, but she wanted to get back on her daughter’s good side before they parted ways for a bit. Their relationship had always been rocky. Alicia had never turned to her mother or father for sympathy or support when she was little, instead choosing Nick as her favorite family member. No one had faulted her, of course, because Nick was everyone’s favorite. He had remained her favorite right up until he started stealing her allowance for drug money.

Watching her two children grow apart so fast had been hard for Madison to watch. Alicia had responded to Nick’s addiction by throwing herself into her schoolwork, which had driven the wedge between them even further as he dropped out of college and started living on the streets part-time. It was then that Madison realized she was failing as a mother. Like Alicia, it made her double her efforts into getting her son the help he needed. The tighter she squeezed, the harder he fought to escape.

Not fighting their decision to stay at the mansion was meant as an olive branch. She knew that if she held on too tightly, she would end up losing them for good. Plus, if Madison were to be completely honest with herself, she really could use a break from her two – now three - insufferable brats. She looked forward to not having to deal with their mood swings on a daily basis.

“Take me to her,” Madison urged. “Your brother will be here soon.”

Alicia led her mother through the back exit to the stables. Although the guard outside of Luciana’s stall must have abandoned his post, he left the keys on the hook outside the door like the idiot he had more than likely been. She wondered if he had been torn apart by the crowds out front, or the ones in the tunnels.

Madison stopped her as she started to slide the door open. “Go wait at the gate. Stall him if he gets here.” Reluctantly, she did as her mother asked.

An uneasy feeling settled in Alicia’s gut as she walked away. She tried to convince herself that it was nothing. There was no reason for her mother to hurt Luciana. Convincing her to leave wouldn’t be hard. One mention of Troy being the family’s new golden boy should send her packing, she reasoned with herself. Violence just wouldn’t be necessary.

The knot in her stomach persisted, though, despite her best efforts to cure it with logic. Maybe she should hang back, just in case something went wrong. Her mother might need backup if Luciana got angry. Making her mind up, Alicia turned around, heading back in the direction she had come from.

It was a decision she would come to regret all too soon.

 

\--

 

The squeal of feedback from a PA system had awoken Luciana from a fitful slumber; when she heard the voice that followed, though, she could have sworn she was still dreaming.

 _It can’t be_ , she thought, _I must be hallucinating_.

Sure enough, listening to the speech that followed, Madison Clark was outside the very walls Luciana found herself trapped in. Suddenly, her situation didn’t seem as bleak. Madison Clark had taken over an army base with a teaspoon; from the sound of the gunfire that split the air, she was much better armed this time.Luciana sat silently, praying her rescue came before the Proctors decided her usefulness had expired.

When the door had slid open, and Alicia had stepped through the wooden frame, Luciana had tried to keep her face as blank as possible. The girl’s confirmation that Nick was dead had hit her hard. She tried desperately to read something into her blank stare. Could it all be part of their cover story?

She knew she was fooling herself. After she was left alone again, she broke down. Sure, she was going to be rescued, but Nick was still dead. Had he really sacrificed himself to save everyone, she wondered, or did he do it as a final means to escape Madison’s clutches.

As Luciana listened to Madison’s second diatribe of the day, she knew she was probably going to be coming face to face with the _puta_ momentarily. She had no intentions of sticking around the market if the Clarks were now in charge, but she was looking forward to finally being able to give her a piece of her mind.

It was about an hour later when the door opened again, and Luciana had been stewing the entire time. Madison came in alone. Without a word, she sliced the ropes at Luciana’s wrists and ankles, freeing her. Rubbing the irritated skin underneath, she glared at the older woman. “He finally did it. He finally got away from you.”

A dark cloud passed over Madison’s face. “He sacrificed himself for his family.”

“You keep telling yourself that,” Luciana spat back, slowly getting up from the position she had been stuck in for the last twelve hours, her bones cracking.

Madison snorted. “You knew him for a month, sweetheart. Don’t act like you were his soulmate. _She_ died right before he met you. You were a rebound.”

“Nick loved me.”

“Nick loves love. He is a hopeless romantic who falls head over heels any time a pretty girl catches his eye.” Madison countered.

Luciana cocked her head, “He _was_ a hopeless romantic.”

“Yes, that’s what I said.”

“No, you said he _is_ a hopeless romantic. Present tense.”

Madison shut her eyes, her chest heaving as she let out a heavy sigh. “Don’t do this, Luciana.”

“He’s alive, isn’t he?” she eyed the knife Madison held, and suddenly wished she had walked away when she had the chance.

Alicia suddenly appeared in the doorway. Sensing the tension of the situation, she stepped in between the two women. “She knows?” she asked her mother.

 _Shit_ , Luciana thought. _She was screwed_. Looking down, she saw the balisong handle sticking out of Alicia’s boot. Taking her chance, Luciana lunged for it, flicking it open as she grabbed a handful of the girl’s long hair and yanked her back. Holding the tip of the razor-sharp blade to Alicia’s throat, she stared Madison down.

What happened next was a blur. Apparently, Luciana had underestimated how Madison would react to her baby girl being threatened. Mama bear did love both of her cubs equally, as it turned out. She had struck quick as a snake, knocking Alicia to safety and tackling Luciana to the ground in one movement.

An intense heat spread through Luciana’s abdomen as she hit the ground. Luciana pushed Madison off her as hard as she could and struggled to her feet. The sudden motion changed the sensation from a burning to a searing pain, and there was a wet sound that followed, almost like someone spilled a big bowl of spaghetti. Glancing at the ground, she saw a pile of something mushy by her feet. She was dizzy and having a hard time thinking of anything besides how cold it was all the sudden, but she was pretty sure it wasn’t pasta.

Dropping to her knees, she watched as the dark red pool spread out around her. The pain was gone now, thank God. She was still cold; more than anything else, though, she was tired. Her eyelids drooped, and she thought back to the last night she had spent with Nick, falling sleep in his arms under the stars. It had been bittersweet - she had known she was leaving - but it had still been the best night of her life. A single tear ran down her cheek as she gave in to the exhaustion and fell to the ground.

Closing her eyes, Luciana went to sleep.

 

\--

 

Alicia watched as Luciana took her last breath, paralyzed with shock. “No. No no no no,” she started to panic. Madison remained calm, and doing what had to be done, slid her knife into the soft tissue at the base of her son’s girlfriend’s skull.

 _Ex-girlfriend for sure, now_ , Alicia thought grimly. “Nick can’t ever find out about this,” she muttered.

Madison agreed silently.

“Did you want this to happen?” Alicia blurted out before she could think better of it, her cheeks burning.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t ask that question.” Seeing her daughter was not going to let it drop, she went on. “She was going to slit your throat.”

“Maybe,” Alicia replied.

“I couldn’t take that risk. You’ll understand when you have kids,” Madison softened as she approached.

Her mother’s optimism was bordering on insanity now, if she thought Alicia had any intention of bringing children into this wretched world. She watched as the blood crept towards her shoes, staining the damp hay on the ground burgundy as it spread. She knew she couldn’t tell Nick what had happened. It didn’t mean she was okay with it.

It had been an accident, anyway, right?

After covering Luciana’s body with a horse blanket, they locked the stall door behind them and headed back to their way back to their new headquarters in silence. Lee and Mel still stood guard outside it, but the room was no longer empty. Victor greeted them loudly as they walked through the doors.

“ _Viva la Reina_! And _viva la_ … however you say Princess in Spanish!” He toasted, raising a crystal champagne flute in the air. As the others had been packing up their weapons that morning, Victor had made sure to focus on what he deemed a bigger priority. “How can we celebrate a victory without champagne?” he had asked Madison solemnly.

The rest of the room’s occupants turned to see Madison and Alicia in the doorway. Nick grinned ear to ear as he lumbered towards them, wrapping Madison up in a big bear hug and spinning her around. As he let her put her back down and turned to Alicia, she saw a streak of blood on his shirt that must have rubbed off of Madison. Luciana’s blood.

“Are you hurt?” Nick asked his mother after he noticed the stain, honest concern in his voice.

Madison smiled and shook her head. “It’s not mine, baby. Don’t worry.” She reached out and brushed the shaggy strands of hair back off his forehead.

Alicia suddenly felt like screaming. She had accused her mother of being cold before but watching her caress her brother's face with the same hand that had just eviscerated his last girlfriend chilled her to the bone.

What had she done?

Madison settled in at the table and proclaimed that it was time to get down to business. Nick pardoned himself and Troy with the excuse that they needed to go mingle with their new subjects, as if anyone didn’t know he just wanted to head to the bar. Alicia turned down their invitation to join them. As much as she would have loved to get far away from her mother and be blackout drunk at the moment, she didn’t trust herself to not spill her guts to Nick the minute they were alone.

She grimaced internally at her choice of metaphors, and her mouth was suddenly very dry. Chugging a nearby glass of champagne, she sat back and listened in on the tedious conversations, chiming in whenever she was asked for her opinion. All the while, Alicia watched her mother intently. It was as if killing Luciana had been as easy as killing a fly to her.

The bile rose in Alicia’s throat. Madison had insisted they were cut from the same cloth, and Alicia had started to believe it. She had actually taken it as the highest compliment her mother could pay, and had craved that positive attention. Sitting here listening to her as she played the part of both liberator and conqueror, Alicia wondered if Madison intended to kill anyone who tried to get between her and Nick. Would she kill Troy if she deemed him a threat to their relationship?

Would she kill her own daughter?

Her mother was broken, she had known that for a long time, and she had recently proven that she could be extremely dangerous. Each time Nick had run away, her mother had gotten more and more controlling of him when he was home. It had been an endless cycle between the two of them.

Thinking back, she remembered her mother and father arguing about how she was pushing Nick away with her methods. He had crashed his car shortly after that. Her dad had been the first victim caught in the crossfire of the mother and son’s twisted relationship, Alicia thought woefully. That list was now growing rapidly.

Madison must have sensed Alicia’s eyes on her, because she looked over at her and smiled. It was a genuine smile, which was somehow more unsettling than if it had been forced. Alicia did her best to reciprocate, hoping her mother bought it. She didn’t want her mother to see how shaken she was. It shouldn’t be too hard to convince her she was fine, seeing as how Madison assumed her daughter was as heartless as she was herself.

It wasn’t true though, nor did she want it to be. When Alicia had been forced to kill before, it had been either to protect her loved ones or as an act of mercy. There had been no guilt eating at her after the fact, which had initially worried her. It was different this time. Even though it had technically been Madison’s blade that killed Luciana, Alicia felt it weighing heavily on her.

She should have just let Luciana go before Madison got inside. She could have told her the truth, that Nick was alive and that he missed her. She could have arranged a secret meeting for them and watched them as they drove off into the sunset to be happy together, him finally escaping from the stifling grip Madison had on him. There were literally dozens of scenarios that would have ended with Luciana walking out of the arena alive and her brother able to be happy. The minute Madison had gotten involved, though, tragedy had been guaranteed.

The next few weeks would be telling for the family. Madison’s rise to power would be swift, and there would be many chances for her to show her benevolence and not give in to her rage. Alicia held out little hope that her mother would become the compassionate leader she was pretending to be. She was terrified that one day, she would be forced to make the hard decision. How far was she willing to go, if it came down to it? What would she be willing to do?

With no hesitation, she knew her answer.

She would do whatever it takes, Alicia thought to herself.

_Whatever it takes._


	10. Epilogue

The talks at _El Bazar_ went smoothly, and within a few weeks, there was a steady flow of supplies running between the town and the trading post. By the end of the second month, they had added two more outposts just over the border. A few small groups had been settled at each, and with the supplies and protection that Madison’s group provided, had quickly been able to get up and running.

 _Pueblo de la Reina_ was thriving. There had been a dozen or so families that had moved in from the bazaar, and a few vendors who preferred the idea of a small-town storefront to a bustling outdoor flea market. Daniel and Troy had trained themselves a militia, both for defense and to go on the road with Madison. As the months passed, Troy’s speech had improved enough to the point that he could give his men orders. They all knew better than to laugh at his stutter, though, when it did creep in.

Alicia had built up a modestly equipped hospital. For serious illnesses and surgeries, they’d still have to go to the bazaar to see Eddie, but she spent most of her spare time studying any medical books she could get her hands on. Nick had taken it upon himself to be the town welcome wagon and handyman, helping the new families get settled into their new homes as they arrived.

Madison ultimately controlled everything from the top down, with each satellite site on the route having its own dedicated leader while she was on the road. Maria Lu ran the trading post; not unexpectedly, she and Madison had gotten along swimmingly. Although no one would be replacing Victor as her drinking partner any day soon, Maria had proven herself loyal and useful in a short amount of time.

Getting the route established in New Mexico and Arizona had been much easier than anticipated, thanks to Walker and Lee. As it turned out, the Native American population had been uniquely equipped to deal with the fall of civilization, having already spent centuries trying to keep hordes of usurpers off their land. The reservations in the southwest, from Four Corners down to the Mexico border, had already begun to band together by the time Taqa approached them with their proposition to join the trade route. A few pallets of canned goods had sealed the deal. It also hadn’t hurt that the chief’s daughter had fallen for Lee over the course of the negotiations. Lucky for all of them, Lee felt the same way about her.

It wasn’t until El Paso that they met with any resistance. Unlike the previous groups they had brought into their fold, the Texans they first encountered were not interested in working together. Madison’s group lost a few people in those first skirmishes; ultimately, they had been able to come to an understanding, especially once they got a good look at the extensive supply of weaponry that her group had access to. Those Texans loved their guns, and a few dozen cartel-approved automatic weapons had been all it took to get them to buy in.

Along the way, they had put out feelers for anyone who could help get the refineries up and running again once they reached the Gulf Coast. The ability to manufacture and distribute fuel would ultimately be what set their group apart. Everyone else they met had been happy to just be surviving, and sometimes Madison envied them for their simplicity.

She had convinced herself she was doing good for people, and that was what motivated her to keep going. Each time she found herself fighting against another group of hold-outs, wiping them out by the dozens, she told herself it was just a price that had to be paid to keep order.

It took just over eight months, but by the time they hit Houston, Madison’s reputation had preceded her. They no longer had to search out camps to turn into outposts, they were now being sought out by anyone who had something to offer. Farmers promising portions of their harvest, individuals with specialized skills who wanted to contribute, and people in general who just wanted to try to get things back to normal.

In the meager amount of free time she had a day, Madison had liked to go for walks by herself in whatever town they happened to be in. From the moment they defeated the Proctors, she had found herself constantly surrounded by people who were relying on her, and at times it overwhelmed her. Madison didn’t remember if this had been her plan all along or not. Her children were not only safe, they were thriving, and as long as she kept the trade route running smoothly, everyone treated her like she was the second coming.

To be honest, she hadn’t felt like she had really done much more than show up ever since that day at the bazaar. She fought alongside her people when she had to, and never turned down the opportunity to take out a few walkers, but she had turned into some kind of legend in a very short time. She was having a hard time processing it.

On one such walk, in a small town about thirty miles due west of Houston, Madison saw a quaint looking library and decided to see if there was anything she could pick up for Alicia. Rapping on the glass door, she paused and waited to see if any roamers were lurking around. When none appeared, she let herself in and started scanning through the stacks of abandoned books.

Following her instincts had always paid off for Madison, and at that moment, she was acutely aware that she was not alone in the room. Unsheathing her knife, she scanned the room around her. A small movement from a dark corner in the back caught her eye. She started to stalk in that direction when she heard the unmistakable click of a safety being released behind her head.

“I’m just here looking for books,” Madison offered, dropping her knife.

“Looked to me like you were trying to slice up my friend over there like he was an Easter ham,” a deep voice drawled back at her.

“My presence may have alarmed her, and in her defense, I did not identify myself when I heard her come in. I truly do not believe she intended me any harm,” a monotone voice prattled on from the shadows.

Madison felt the air shift behind her as the gun was lowered. “Fine, but Eugene, this is why you can’t just go off on your own,” an irritated female voice sounded behind her. She finally dared to turn around, coming face to face with a barrel-chested man with the brightest red hair she had ever seen, complete with matching mustache, and a beautiful Latina girl that made her suddenly very glad Nick had not decided to join them on this trip.

“I’m Madison. Madison Clark,” she said, picking her knife back up and putting it back into its sheath at her hip.

The third man had finally come out from the shadows and moved to stand behind the other two. Madison tried not to stare, thrown off by the man’s choice in hairstyles. Different strokes for different folks, she figured, but had anyone ever really looked good with a mullet?

“My name is Sergeant Abraham Ford, and this spitfire here is Rosita Espinosa. The handsome gent you almost skewered is Dr. Eugene Porter. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Madison Clark.”


End file.
